Love and War
by HorcruxFinder
Summary: After not speaking in nearly three years, what happens when Katie and Oliver are reunited once again? And will their relationship be able to withstand the horrors of the War going on around them? KBOW. Sequel to Love and Quidditch.
1. A Better Rain

**A/N: And we're back! This is the sequel to Love and Quidditch and it's bigger and better than ever (hopefully). If you haven't read Love and Quidditch, I suggest you do although this can really stand alone. Not much refreshing is needed, but if you would like to re-read the epilogue of Love and Quidditch, it kind of sets the mood. And the rating's subject to change...haven't quite decided yet.**

**--**

_A Better Rain:_

"Katie Bell, wake up," an achingly familiar singsong voice says, plopping down next to me on my mattress. I groan and pull the blankets around myself even tighter. "You know you want to," the voice urges. "The sun is out, the birds are singing. Come join the world of the living."

"Shut up, Fred," I groan, not moving an inch because I can in fact hear those birds singing and that means it's early. Too early.

"Really, though," he says seriously. "You've got to get up. We're all going out to lunch." I move the covers just enough to look at the clock on the wall and then shut my eyes again.

"It's only eight in the morning," I whine. "I worked late last night. I _need _my day off!"

He sits in silence for a few seconds, as if hoping I will change my mind. "You're a Quidditch reporter," he replies. "The hardest part of your job last night was making it through the Cannons game without falling asleep." True.

"It's only eight," I repeat. Surely that's enough to guarantee me an extra four hours of sleep.

"It's cold in here," he says after a little while. That's probably true; I have to have it cold in order to sleep. And then to my surprise, he hops under the covers with me.

"Fred," I threaten, trying to be as menacing as possible without opening my eyes.

"C'mon, I need some blanket," he says, grabbing all of the covers off of me. I gasp when the cold air touches my body. Now fully awake, I hop out of bed.

"Fred Weasley—out! Now!" I shout, pointing towards the door.

"No thank you. Your bed's very warm." I roll my eyes and groan in frustration. It soon becomes obvious that I'm not going to be able to get back to sleep (or back into my bed at all) so I head for my closet instead, changing into jeans and a T-shirt.

"So, what are you doing here?" I ask the lump of blankets on my bed. It wouldn't be surprising if he'd managed to fall asleep.

"I already told you," he mumbles, almost incoherently. "We're going to lunch."

"And I already told you. It's eight in the morning! Since when are you awake before noon? And plus, you know very well that Angelina has practice until five tonight," I argue, running a brush through my hair.

"Why in the world do the Harpies practice on weekends?" he muses, finally uncovering his head so that I can understand him. "And of course I know that. I told her goodbye this morning—and last night," he adds as an afterthought.

Goodbye? My face slumps when I finally realize what he's talking about. Him and George keep disappearing for no reason at all, always leaving with a goodbye. Angelina and I suspect that they are helping the Order of the Phoenix, but even that doesn't make me feel any better on days like this. If anything happened to him…If anything happened to any of them…

"So, what are you doing this time?" I ask, even though I know he won't tell me. It's kind of a tradition with us.

"Well, there's this rampaging herd of hippogriffs upsetting the Ministry. George and I figured it was our duty to get rid of them." Even in my sour mood, I can't help but grin.

"I just wish you wouldn't keep saying goodbye," I mutter. "It makes it sound so final."

"I didn't mean it as good bye," he answers. "I just want to spend some time with you. Just in case." Even though his final three words are even worse than 'goodbye', I just nod. "Now," he exclaims, jumping out of my bed and changing the subject expertly. "I've got a bone to pick with you."

I roll my eyes as I head for the kitchen, Fred following close behind me. The light from the July sun is beaming into the room, so I quickly close the curtain. I've never been very fond of the Sun…

"What's going on with you and Lee?" Fred asks, taking a seat at the bar, kicking some of Angelina and Alicia's clothes out of the way as he does so. "The poor boy's very confused."

"It's complicated," I say, searching for the skillet so I can cook myself breakfast. "Want an egg?"

"Sure. But it can't be that complicated. Aren't you sleeping with him?"

I very nearly drop the skillet. "I very well am not!" I say, stunned. "And if Lee told you that, then I'm ending it with him now. Fried or scrambled?

"What?" Fred asks, confused.

"The egg," I clarify. "Fried or scrambled?"

"Can I have an omelette?"

"Do I look like a house elf?"

"Fried." I point my wand at the burner and crack two eggs into the skillet. "And Lee didn't say that," Fred continues, "But you've been sleeping at his place quite a bit."

"And why do you think that is?" I ask sarcastically.

"Um, is that a trick question?"

"Probably. Fred, where have _you_ been sleeping the majority of the time?"

"Oh," he says, throwing a side glance at Angelina's room.

"Yeah. So if you could remember to use a silencing charm every once in a while, I'd be eternally grateful and Lee wouldn't have to open his spare room to indigents like me." Fred just looks down guiltily as I flip the eggs with my wand.

"We'll start using my place," he mutters like a child that's just been scolded.

"So, how am I confusing Lee?" I ask, curiosity getting the better of me as I hand Fred his egg.

"One egg? Are you serious?' he asks, looking at it with scrutiny.

"Fix your own if you're still hungry."

"Do I look like I know how to cook?"

"Fred, just answer the question," I beg.

"He says you're dating—is that the right word?"

"Yeah," I answer. "We're not in a serious relationship. He knows that."

"That doesn't make any sense," Fred mutters more to himself than to me.

"Yes it does. Did you hear what happened to the Peakes' family last week? The Death Eaters took their son to try and get information out of the parents—they're doing the same thing with couples. I don't want anything to happen to him because of me."

Fred stares at me for a few seconds and I hope that he won't be able to see just how much I was stretching the truth. I love Lee; I do. But I don't think I like him the same way that he likes me and I don't know how to end it without hurting him. So I guess I'll just stick with my Death Eater excuse.

"Katie, that is the dumbest thing that I have ever heard! If you give up your happiness because of them, then they've already won."

"I'm not letting them take my happiness," I argue. "I am only—"

My angry response was cut off as Alicia's door opens and both she and George come out of it in their pajamas, his arm around her waist. Alicia giggles at something that George whispers in her ear and Fred clears his throat loudly to announce our presence. I can't help but laugh as they spring apart.

"What the hell are _you_ doing up?" Alicia asks me, clutching her heart.

"We're apparently going out to lunch," I say, glancing at Fred.

"But it's only like eight," she replies and I look at Fred pointedly.

"Yeah, Fred. What _am _I doing awake?" I ask smugly.

Fred opens his mouth to reply but George beats him to it. "Nothing personal, Katie. He just gets bored when Angelina's not here."

"Just my luck," I reply.

"Are we really going out for lunch?" Alicia asks worriedly. She knows as well as I do what an afternoon on the town with Fred and George means.

"Yeah, babe," George admits sheepishly. These lunches have gotten to be a nightmare and I don't think George even realizes just how much his departures affect Alicia.

"When will you be back?" I ask just to end the silence. Fred and George exchange a glance.

"If you haven't heard from us by noon tomorrow—" Fred starts.

"—then there's probably a reason to worry," George finishes, taking Alicia's hand tight in his own and I can already see the tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She's had it hard these past few months; even harder than the rest of us. She's in Healer training at St. Mungo's and she witnesses first hand the tragedies that take place every day. Knowing that George is out in all of that mess doesn't help her one tiny but.

"Listen," I say, trying to move out conversation to a lighter note. "I have to stop by the office but I'll meet you for lunch. Where are we eating?"

"Why do you have to stop by your office?" Alicia asks. "It's Saturday."

"Because that Death Eater, Travers, has been hanging around, and my editor, Malcolm, gets all frazzled and forgets to owl me my next assignment and then complains when I don't get it in on time. Plus, I was supposed to meet Leanne for lunch so I've got to go cancel. Which is fine because I'm almost positive that she just wants to take me to get my dress for the wedding fitted."

"I can't believe you're going to be a bridesmaid," George snickers.

"Shut up," I warn him. "So where are we eating lunch?"

"Three Broomsticks okay with everyone?" Fred answers with a shrug, glancing at the other two. "We haven't been in a while—Rosmerta will be glad to see us."

"Okay, well I'll see you there," I say, searching the room for my handbag. I finally find it in a corner and make sure all of my belongings are inside it before Disapparating on the spot.

The building that houses the _Daily Prophet _is really just an extension of the Ministry of Magic and I make my way into it slowly. Just walking through the lobby of the place I work in everyday makes my skin crawl. Just in the few months that I've been working here, things have changed drastically. Thankfully, the brunt of the change isn't being felt in the Quidditch Department, but it'll only be a matter of time. As soon as the Death Eaters form a Quidditch team, I suppose our writing will become biased also.

I take the elevator up the fifth floor, saying hello to a few friendly co-workers on the way up. I step out of the elevator into the reception area where our elderly secretary, Ren, is sitting.

"Why, good morning, Ms. Bell. What a pleasant surprise. You're not scheduled to work today."

"Yeah, just can't get enough of the place," I joke. "Is Malcolm here yet?"

"Already on his fifth cup of coffee—vile stuff if you ask me. Last time I saw him, he was yelling at Parker about some deadline or another."

"Thanks, Ren," I say, heading into the main room where all of our cubicles are located. It takes me no time at all to spot Malcolm frantically bouncing around the room, trying to get updates ready for the evening edition. Malcolm's a middle aged, slightly balding man, who's no doubt going to drive himself to an early grave, either by caffeine overdose or stress. Shorter than me, I don't think he's ever played Quidditch in his life, but he knows how to run a paper and I assume that helps.

I cautiously make my way over.

"Katie?" He asks upon seeing me. "Katie—good! Where have you been? You're supposed to clock in at seven," he greets.

"I don't work today, Malcolm," I remind him. He's just a bit out of it…

"Sure you do. You always work on Thursdays."

"It's Saturday, Malcolm," I correct through gritted teeth.

"Really?" He inquires, taking a deep sip of his coffee. "Well, did you send me your article about the Chudley Cannons game?"

"Yes, Malcolm. I owled it over last night."

"Really?"

"Yes! It made the morning edition so you must have seen it," I say.

"Really?"

"Yes, Malcolm. That's why I'm here. You told me yesterday that you have a _special_ assignment for me, but I never got it."

"Sure you did! I owled it to you—put it on your desk, I put it on your desk."

"Are you sure?" I ask, not wanting to have to hunt him down again.

"Of course I'm sure!"

"Well then, thank you," I say, giving him a cheery smile that wipes off of my face as soon as I turn around. How does he even make it to work without getting run over? I head for my cubicle and sure enough, a memo lays waiting for me amongst all of my pictures. I pick up my next assignment and quickly read it through. And then again. No way…

I step out of my cubicle and in a great imitation of the man himself, begin searching frantically for Malcolm. Giving up, I finally shout among the ruckus, "Malcolm!" His tiny head pops out of the side of my co-worker Grace Parker's cubicle and I head over.

"Malcolm, are you sure that this is the right assignment?" I ask hurriedly.

He quickly glances it over. "Yeah, this is right. I know that you've never done anything like it before, but I'm confident in your abilities."

I stare at him speechless and Grace, only a few years older than me, stands up to look at my assignment.

"I asked for this, Malcolm!" she cries angrily.

"You can have it—here!" I move to hand it to her, but Malcolm stops me.

"I gave it to you, Katie. Is there a problem? I want to see how your writing adjusts to different types of things. Do the assignment—that's an order." He then saunters off leaving me speechless. Crazy Malcolm I get; it's Serious Malcolm that I don't know how to handle.

"You're so lucky," Grace mutters as I trudge off and I long to tell her just how unlucky I really am.

--

I arrive at the Three Broomsticks slightly earlier than expected, but I spot Lee in a corner booth nonetheless.

"Hey," I greet, sitting down next to him. As soon as I do, I feel his hand move to my shoulder and although I know that I should set him straight, it feels good so I don't. Instead, I lean against him, resting my head on his chest.

"Busy morning?" he asks with a laugh, softly stroking my hair.

"Just frustrating," I say, closing my eyes against his body.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. So, do _you_ know where Fred and George are off to?" I ask, sitting up.

"No, no clue. And I don't want to know either." I just nod in agreement; it's safer that way.

"I hate it when they do this," I mutter. "You'll come over right?" It's become a sort of tradition. When the twins are away, the rest of us play. Or at least sit on the sofa worrying like crazy until they return.

"Yeah, I'll stop by as soon as I help Apparate them out of here." I raise an eyebrow in confusion and Lee holds up a hand to stop my questions. "All I know is that I have to Apparate George, and only George, to that empty field where we used to play Quidditch behind the Burrow. I just do what they tell me—no questions asked."

"And that's what we like about him," George agrees, sliding into the booth with Alicia at his side.

"Where's Fred?" I ask and George points to the bar where Fred is already in a lively discussion with Madam Rosmerta.

"So, Katie, did you pick up your new assignment?" Alicia asks cheerfully and my heart once again falls into my stomach.

"Um, yeah. Yeah, it seems real…interesting," I say, feigning happiness. I know that Alicia can see right through me but she says nothing.

"So did you work everything out with Leanne?" She continues and I instantly slap myself on the forehead.

"That's a no," Lee laughs.

"I've got to call her!" I cry, standing up, but Alicia stops me.

"I owled her," she assures me. "I knew you'd forget."

"Thank you so much! And remind me to talk to her later. I can't put off this fitting forever, I guess." Fred arrives with our Butterbeers and slides into the seat next to his brother.

"Speaking of weddings," George starts.

"Oh yeah—I forgot to tell them," Fred mutters.

"You're all invited to Bill and Fleur's," George continues. "Actually mum orders it. August first."

We all agree to be there and order a light meal each. None of us is going to be able to eat much. We sit there, exchanging pointless conversation for almost two hours, but as our banter hits a lull and Fred and George begin exchanging glances, it becomes obvious that it's almost time.

"You have to go, don't you?" I finally ask and they both nod sheepishly. Figuring it's best not to draw too much attention to ourselves in the Three Broomsticks, we step outside to say our goodbyes, although I refuse to see it as such.

"See you in a few hours, Katie," George says, giving me a hug.

"Good luck," I reply. "And come back in one piece, okay."

"Okay," he agrees with a laugh and moves on to Alicia who's on the verge of tears.

"Katie, Katie, Katie," Fred says with a smirk, throwing one arm around my shoulder. "What are we supposed to do? You told me that I couldn't say good bye."

"Fred, shut up." He laughs and pulls me into a tight hug, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before letting me go.

"What I said to George applies to you too. Back in one piece, got it?"

"Yes ma'am. Listen, can you do me a favor?" I nod and he pulls off the watch that he always wears. "Give this to Angelina. She knows why." I just nod in understanding because if I say anything, I'm not sure how my voice will sound. The three boys group together.

"Katie, I'll Apparate to your place when I'm done at theirs," Lee says, giving me one small wave and then they are gone.

I look over at Alicia and rush to her immediately when I see the convulsions wracking through her body. She's trying to keep the tears in, but I can tell that she's going to be unsuccessful. I take her by the arm and lower her onto the nearest bench, wrapping her in my arms. That's all the permission that she needs to start crying.

I slowly rub circles around her back trying to calm her, even though I know from experience that it probably won't work. She's been prone to panic attacks lately. I hate seeing her like this, but as of now we haven't been able to find a way to stop them.

"Alicia, honey, are you okay?" I ask after a few minutes.

"I'll be fine," she chokes out between sobs. Yeah right. She's going to splinch herself if we try to Disapparate now. What the hell am I supposed to do? We're already getting strange looks.

Suddenly I remember that Cullen lives near here and I quickly help Alicia up, hoping desperately that Leanne will be at her fiancé's. "Come on, Alicia," I tell her. "Cullen's is right down the street. It'll give you a chance to quiet down." Or take a Calming Draft one. We slowly make our way to his house and I ring the bell.

It takes a few seconds, but I finally see Cullen's head poke around their living room curtains.

"Shit," I hear him mutter. "Leanne, Katie's here." He then sets to work on releasing the protective spells around his door. Finally, Leanne opens the door and I pass Alicia to her.

"Oh my God—what happened?" she asks worriedly, as Alicia tries to calm herself.

"It's nothing really," I explain as Leanne comforts Alicia. "George's gone and—no, no, not _gone _gone—he's out, George's—calm down, Alicia. Cullen, where's your medicine cabinet? She needs a Calming Draft." I have absolutely no patience for crying people.

"No, I don't!" Alicia argues, and although the tears have stopped, she's still shaking uncontrollably and that's enough to tell me that she's lying.

"Shh, honey, it's okay," Leanne assures her, leading Alicia into their kitchen which leaves Cullen and me alone in the foyer. I don't have a problem with Cullen, but we've been distant for a while. It probably has something to do with who his best friend is.

"I'm not going to be able to Apparate her out of here without a Calming Draft—she'll splinch herself!" I argue stubbornly.

"Katie, head home. Leanne'll take care of her and get her back to your place safely." He never quite meets my eyes.

"What's going on?" I ask worriedly.

"_He's_ coming over tonight, Katie. Should be here any minute. So unless you want to stay…"

Oliver.

Damn.

I throw a quick glance at the door. "She doesn't handle medicine too well," I say in a rush, trying to get all of the necessary information out before leaving. "But force it down her throat if you have to—she hasn't been right in ages, so I'd say she needs to calm down a bit. Just get her back in one piece or George'll have my throat." I prepare to Disapparate, but remember what I had to tell Leanne in the first place. "Oh, the dress fitting."

"You can't keep putting off trying on dresses, Katie," he answers with a smirk.

"Just tell her to call me."

"Bye, Crazy." I wave and Disapparate to my own flat and am relieved to see that I'm not going to have to wait alone. Lee's already there, adjusting channels on my Wizarding Wireless. He looks up when I enter.

"What's wrong?" he asks immediately. "Where's Alicia?"

"She had a panic attack," I explain. "Leanne's taking care of her. I kind of bailed." He raises an eyebrow in question. "_He_ was on his way."

"Ah," he says in understanding and pulls me down onto his lap. "I guess that means that we have a few minutes to ourselves then, don't we?"

I smile as he moves his lips to mine and although I'm still worried about Fred, George, and Leanne, I let him kiss me. It's been a long day and I deserve a break.

--

**A/N: There we go—first chapter. Hope you liked it. Review, please. Seriously. Reviews make my day just a bit more bright and sunny. **

_Next time on _Love and War:

"_I got my new assignment today…You know how you said I'd have to see Oliver again sometime…Well—"-Katie Bell_

**Review!**


	2. Karma

_Karma:_

Lee and I had only been alone for a few minutes when a loud crack fills the living area, signaling Angelina's presence. We quickly break apart, but not before she can take in our tangled forms.

"Get a room, you two," she says with a laugh, dropping her Quidditch bag onto the floor. She looks around the flat quickly. "So…they're gone?"

"Yeah," I reply. "But Fred said to give you this." I pass her the watch that he had entrusted to me before he left. She gives it a small smile before snapping it onto her own wrist and taking a seat in the chair across from us.

"So, where's Alicia?" She inquires, once again scanning our apartment.

"Having a panic attack," Lee answers bluntly. Angelina's eyes widen and she looks around the room frantically for signs of a spasmodic Alicia.

"At Cullen's," I clarify. "Leanne's going to try and calm her down and then Apparate her back home."

"You just left her?" Angelina asks, shocked. Yeah, so I'm a horrible friend. Sue me.

"Yeah, well, they were kind of expecting a visitor."

She rolls her eyes and I know that she understands exactly who I'm talking about. "Isn't that like the fourth time that's happened, Katie?"

"Fifth," Lee corrects her.

"Excuse me?" Angelina asks, not sure what he's referring to.

"The fifth time," Lee clarifies. "If you count the time that he was actually there."

"This is getting ridiculous!" Angelina says. "You're going to have to talk to him sometime."

"No, I'm not," I say stubbornly.

"She never has to see him again if she doesn't want to," Lee agrees, putting a protective arm around my shoulder.

Angelina rolls her eyes and gets up to fix herself a snack. Our conversation slowly begins to move on to our days and Angelina informs me (once again) that the Harpies are obviously trying to kill her with all of the practices she has to suffer through.

Shortly after her arrival, our fireplace suddenly flares to life. Before the flames can subside even an inch, all of our wands are pointing towards it, Angelina looking far from intimidating with a cookie clutched between her teeth. Even though only a few people know the password to floo into our flat, you can't be too safe nowadays.

As the flames finally clear, the forms of Leanne and Alicia come into view and although this isn't the mode of transportation I was expecting them to use, I lower my wand. Lee, however, keeps his firmly in place.

"Who's your Maid of Honor?" He asks, obviously not realizing that Alicia is wobbling side to side next to Leanne. Ignoring Lee's extra measures of safety, Angelina rushes forward to help our friend.

"Katie Bell," Leanne answers confidently, letting Angelina take hold of Alicia. "Who can't ever make a dress fitting no matter how many times I reschedule."

"I'm sorry," I plead, rushing forward to help Angelina lower Alicia onto the nearest chair. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" Leanne exclaims, more frustrated than worried. "She's the Healer—ask her! I just gave her the dosage she said that she needed. I guess she lied a bit because before she'd even swallowed, she was like this."

Alicia, who seems to have passed out on the couch, says nothing in her own defense. Lee gets up and lifts her into his arms, taking her to her own room.

"I'm sorry, Katie," Leanne says, looking at the pair. "But I gave her the potion and it was obvious immediately that I wasn't going to be able to Apparate her out. I suck at side-a-long Apparation! But of course by that time, Oliver had showed up and was wondering why his former chaser was acting like a house elf on Butterbeer—"

"Leanne, I get it," I interrupt.

"Okay," she says, calming down just a bit. "I need to get back, then. And the dress fitting's Friday, got it?"

"Yeah, I got it," I sigh.

"Good. See you, Angelina. Let me know when Fred and George get back." We nod and she Disapparates.

"Alicia's totally out," Lee says from the doorway as soon as she's gone.

"It's probably better this way," Angelina says and I can't help but agree. "I don't think I could sit here watching her freak out for the next twelve hours."

"I'm not going to make it until tomorrow without sleeping," Lee mutters, and I turn to check the time.

"It's only like seven," I comment.

He laughs. "It feels like it's midnight."

"Do you have to go into work tomorrow?" Angelina asks him as she rummages through our cabinets, once again looking for something to eat. Coming up empty, she grabs our last bottle of Firewhiskey instead.

"Yeah, tomorrow afternoon." Lee has his own show on the Wizarding Wireless.

"Firewhiskey, anyone?" Angelina asks, pouring three glasses full. Lee and I both take ours gladly.

For the next few hours, the three of us drink and talk, trying to retain a semblance of hope while each taking turns checking on a still passed out Alicia. It was around midnight that Lee began yawning profusely and it became obvious that he was no longer paying attention to our conversation. I figured that he needed a little push into the right direction.

"Lee, go lay down," I say sternly. "Just knock all of my crap off of my bed and you can stay there."

"Are…you…sure?" He says through a yawn.

"Positive. Go," I say with a laugh. He nods and heads off towards my room, leaving Angelina and I alone. "You can go take a nap too," I tell her. "I'll wake you up in a few hours."

"No, I'm fine," she says, gently turning Fred's watch around on her wrist. "I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway."

"What's up with that watch?" I ask, unable to take my eyes off of it.

"I don't know," she says with a laugh. "It's just…Fred. Like a piece of him, I guess. He started giving it to me whenever he had to leave so that I would always have him with me." I can't help but smile. That's Fred for you.

"Hey, Ange? Can I talk to you about something?" I ask warily.

"Yeah, of course," she says, sliding over so that I can join her on the couch. We sit in silence for a minute as I try to come up with what to say.

"I got my new assignment today," I finally choke out.

"You're not interviewing me, are you?" She asks with a hopeful grin.

"Well…not _you_." She furrows her brows in confusion.

"You know how you said I'd have to see Oliver sometime…well…"

"Oh my God!" Angelina exclaims, finally understanding where exactly I'm going with this. "Oh my God—you aren't!"

"It's horrible!" I cry, burying my face in my hands.

"Oh my God!

"I can't do this. I mean, I really can't do this."

"Oh my God!"

"Is that all you can say?" I demand angrily.

"Are you serious?" She asks happily. Why the hell is she so happy about this?

"I can't do this!" I argue. "I haven't see or spoken to him in three years. Even that time I stumbled into Cullen's house with him there, he was in the bathroom. Three years!"

"You've been avoiding him for three years and you know it. This isn't really his fault." Good point. "I can't believe that you have to interview Oliver Wood! It's like fate."

"Or karma," I mutter.

"Come on, Katie. It won't be that bad. You're blowing this way out of proportion. And don't you think that it's better if you meet him now, in a professional situation, rather than…"

"Rather than what?" I ask when she stops talking.

"Nothing," she says, much too quickly.

"Rather than what?" I practically yell.

"You must have thought of this Katie…"

"Thought about what?"

"Well…Leanne and Cullen's wedding." Bloody hell.

"Oh my God!" I exclaim. "Oh my God! What was I doing—repressing that little detail? Why didn't I think of that?"

"Not to spoil the mood or anything, but I think that there's one more thing that you've been repressing." Warily, I turn my eyes towards her. "You told Leanne that you would help the Best Man work out the seating chart for both the wedding rehearsal and reception. And the Best Man is—"

"Oliver," I mutter. "Why the hell didn't Leanne stop me when I agreed to do that?" I ask, outraged.

"She probably thought that you were trying to be nice—one less thing for her to worry about, you know."

"Why would she think that?"

"Katie," Angelina says soothingly. "Calm down. This is not the end of the world."

"What am I supposed to do, Ange? I'm freaking out here!"

"There's nothing that you _can_ do, honey. You're just going to have to learn how to deal."

"I don't want to see him," I sigh in defeat.

"What's the problem, Katie? Are you afraid that you've been repressing feelings all of these years?" Angelina jokes.

"No. And shut up."

The truth is that she's not that far off. Although I got over Oliver long ago, it's more of the fact that I don't know what would have happened between us if we _had_ stayed together. If only I was a little older or him a little younger and we hadn't had to split up in the middle of my years at Hogwarts. I haven't even _seen_ him since I was sixteen. Well, okay, I've seen him, but it's been either from afar as he plays Quidditch or from the cover of _Witch Weekly_.

We slowly drift off of the subject of Oliver and to the much safer one of Quidditch…my old fall back topic. As the hours continue onward, my mind starts to cloud and even our discussions on the better brand of Quaffles seem to remind me of the twins.

"I'm so tired," I mutter to Angelina who's resting her head on the back of the couch and staring up at the ceiling wildly. She doesn't respond so I get up and begin rummaging through our cupboards.

"What are looking for?" she groans.

"Caffeine," I answer.

"Well, we're out of tea as of yesterday. I think Alicia has some coffee somewhere though…"

"Coffee?" I sputter, not completely sure that I like the taste of the word in my mouth. But beggars can't be choosers. Desperate for caffeine, I fumble around until I find the ground coffee beans in the cupboard. "How the hell do you fix this stuff?" I ask Angelina, looking on the package for instructions. Angelina shrugs. Screw this. I pour some of the powder into a mug before pointing my wand at it. Boom—instant coffee. I take a deep sip and although the taste is rather foreign, I revel in the warmth of it.

"I think I like coffee," I comment and Angelina laughs at the look on my face. "Alicia actually does know how to pick her drinks." As if summoned by her name, Alicia comes walking into the room, clutching her head.

"Hangover?" Angelina asks with a laugh.

"I'm fine," Alicia groans and, unable to let it go, Angelina continues to taunt her. I take my coffee back to the couch and lay my head on the arm of the sofa. There's nothing wrong with resting my eyes…

I'm awoken (I don't know how much later) by a scream filling our living room. Heart racing, I pick myself up off of the couch and stare and the two boys in front of us. I recognize Fred and George immediately even though they are a bit battle worn but Angelina and Alicia are both standing still, hands over their mouths, not even moving to greet their boyfriends. Unsure of what exactly is going on, Lee runs into the room and he too freezes. Am I missing something?

I slowly walk around the couch to see the twins from the front. And that's when I realize that something isn't right. A few more steps and I figure out what it is. Both twins stand there. Both twins, but only three ears.

"I told you to come back in one piece," I scold, striding over to George and to my surprise, he lets out a deep throaty laugh. It's that laugh more than anything that convinces me the he's going to be fine.

Angelina obviously takes it as a sign because she immediately bounds across the room and into Fred's arms.

"Can you hear?" I ask George, looking at the gaping hole on the side of his head.

"It's a bit muffled, but yeah."

"That's awesome," I mutter before catching myself. "I mean, not awesome that it happened but…" I trail off as I notice that he's not paying attention to me at all. He only has eyes for Alicia. Still dazed, she slowly edges over and I back away from the pair to give them a little privacy.

"Alicia, I know it looks bad, but—" Before George can even finish his sentence, Alicia leans in a kisses him hard on the mouth. Seeing them like that brought a new emotion to the surface—anger. What kind of person would do this to him?

"What the hell happened?" I demand, more of Fred than George because I know that he's the most likely to answer me.

"Katie, you know we can't—" he starts.

"That's bullshit!" I argue. "We have a right to know. Do you honestly not trust us? We'd never do anything to put you in danger—we'd rather die."

"She's right, you know," Angelina mutters.

"We can't tell you. It puts too many people at risk by telling you. I'm not worried about myself, I'm worried about you guys. If they found out you know…" Fred says.

"We know this is about the Order of the Phoenix," Alicia blurts out and we all turn to stare at her. That _was_ the one thing that we'd figured out for ourselves, I'm just surprised that she admitted it.

"How do you know about the Order—" George asks.

"We're not totally stupid," I mutter.

"Yeah," Angelina agrees. "You were both gone the entire summer before our seventh year—the same summer that the Order was rumored to have surfaced again. Plus, you two just radiate Order material. Need I remind you of your enthusiasm about Dumbledore's Army?"

"But that still doesn't tell us where you were tonight," Alicia adds. It's amazing how she can calm herself completely as soon as George enters a room. She's a totally different person than the scared girl she was last night.

Not really expecting them to answer, I'm surprised when I hear Fred heave forth a great sigh.

"Thirteen on us: Mad-Eye, Mundungus Fletcher (don't know if you know him), Hagrid, Lupin, Tonks—"

"She's Lupin's wife…and an Auror," George interrupts.

"—Kingsley Shacklebolt—yeah, George, another Auror—my dad, Bill, Fleur, Ron, Hermione, and me and George went to get Harry out of his Aunt and Uncle's."

"So it's true," Alicia interrupts. "Harry _is_ the Chosen One?"

"Hermione and Ron are in the Order?" I ask exasperated. They're still in school!

"We don't know if Harry's the Chosen One or not…and Ron and Hermione are not in the Order," George answers both questions at once.

"Anyway," Fred clears his throat. Now that he's talking it seems almost impossible to shut him up. "We had this really good plan to get him out because Death Eaters were most likely watching the house. Six of us would take Polyjuice Potion so that we were identical to Harry. That way the Death Eaters watching would see seven Harry Potters and wouldn't know which one to follow."

"There weren't supposed to be any Death Eaters!" George continues the story. "We expected maybe one watching but as soon as we took off—we were _flying_ out of there, by the way—we were immediately surrounded. The thirteen of us were the only ones who knew about the plan beforehand. Someone had to have leaked the information!"

"I was flying with Dad," Fred continues. "I lost track of you and Lupin real fast, George. It was complete chaos but Dad managed to lose them fairly quickly and we made it back to the Burrow relatively unharmed. By the time I got there, however, George here was muttering something about Saints on the couch—scared me half to death. I thought that they'd blown your brains out or something."

George chuckles and picks up his side of the story. "Lupin and I got bombarded right away. I tried to keep them off, but I couldn't cast the spells quick enough. And it's hard to aim from a moving broomstick—that's something that Harry should have taught us in DA. Anyway, the next thing I know, there's a piercing pain on the side of my head and then everything went black. Lupin had to hold me on the broom to get me home. He said it was Snape that did it."

"That filthy bastard," I mutter.

"At least it was only my ear," George replies and that is, at least, one thing to be thankful for.

"Is everyone else okay?" Angelina asks warily. Fred and George exchange quick glances and my heart speeds up.

"Moody didn't make it—he's dead," Fred announces to the crowd.

"Mad-Eye?" I ask, shocked. "No—he's the most powerful Auror…it would have been in the _Daily Prophet_."

"Katie, you know that paper better than all of us," Lee speaks for the first time. "You know what kind of lies they tell. If it doesn't benefit them in some way, they're not going to report it."

"But—"

"We're positive," George assures me. "Bill saw him fall."

Moody's death hits me hard and I'm not even sure why. I never even met him—not really. I only met the fake one during my fifth year, but just the fact that it could have been Fred or George in his place frightens me.

"All of this shit with the _Daily Prophet_ is getting ridiculous!" Lee cries suddenly. "You can't even know for sure who's dead or missing anymore—they don't report it! We need somewhere that we can go for real news."

"Not if you don't want to die, you don't," I warn and he rolls his eyes. It's an idea that he's been toying with for a while…and I don't like it at all.

With Fred and George's story concluded, weariness sets in once again. Telling them that I'll talk to them later, I climb into bed and am asleep within seconds.

--

My eyes finally flutter open a few hours later and I slowly take in the time on the clock on my wall—nine at night. Great; now my sleeping pattern's all messed up. I sigh in defeat and head towards the living room hoping to talk more about the happenings of last night with Fred. The living room, however, is nearly empty. Its sole occupants are two notes floating just above my field of vision. I reach for the first one.

_Katie, _

_Spending the night at the twins' flat. Sleep well._

_Angelina and Alicia._

I roll my eyes and grab the second one.

_Katie,_

_Gone to work. I'll be home around midnight if you need me._

_Lee._

I sigh to myself and collapse onto the sofa, more than just a little bit aware of how alone I am. We have a television, but I have no clue where the remote is so I just sit there in silence, trying to think of something—anything—to entertain myself. Coming up blank, I turn on the radio next to me and switch it to Lee's show. Filled with a mixture of music and humor, it never fails to calm me down.

Lee's voice is soon drowned out, however, by the thoughts rushing around in my head. And although I should probably be more concerned with the fact that George nearly got decapitated last night, the only problem coming to mind is the fact that I have an article to write on Oliver Wood due in two weeks.

Reluctantly, I summon a quill and a piece of parchment and decide to write a letter of my own. Several drafts later, I emerge with a finished product.

_Dear Mr. Oliver Wood,_

_My editor, Mr. Malcolm Forbes, has informed me that you have consented to give an interview with the _Daily Prophet_. I understand that your schedule is busy but I would greatly appreciate it if you could send me a list of dates suitable to you._

_Sincerely,_

_Katie Bell_

Rather impersonal, I know, but it's a step. And it's professional. I re-read the letter once more and when I'm sure that it is as straight forward as possible, I grab Angelina's owl Peaches out of her room. I tie the letter to his leg before I can change my mind and as soon as I open the window, he's gone.

Like me, Oliver lives in muggle London so it isn't long before Peaches returns with his reply. I take the letter slowly off of her leg but, unwilling to know what Oliver said just yet, I ignore the piece of parchment. Trying to take up as much time as possible, I place extra protective spells on the window. Finally, with nothing left to distract me, I turn to the note. I open it with shaking hands.

_Dear Ms. Katie Bell,_

_The only day that I have free for a while is this Sunday. If that is not convenient to you, it's going to be a few weeks before I have another day off. Quidditch is taking up most of my time and the time that is not going to Quidditch is dedicated solely to helping my best friend prepare for his wedding in September. It's actually a very frustrating job considering that his fiancée's Maid of Honor seems unwilling to reply to my many letters asking for help. You wouldn't happen to have any advice on what to do in a situation like this, would you? If there's no problem then I will see you at my flat Sunday around seven o' clock. I assume you know where I live._

_Sincerely, _

Mr. _Oliver Wood_

I can't help but chuckle at the sarcasm in his letter. Same old Oliver. But what was he talking about not being able to get in touch with me? I haven't gotten any letters from him…Has he even _tried _to contact me? I guess I'll just have to wait until Sunday to figure it out.

--

**A/N: Thanks so much for all of the reviews for the last chapter. Keep 'em coming, please :)**

_Next time on _Love and War_: A dress fitting, an awkward conversation with Fred, and Katie examines her relationship with Lee._

**Review!**


	3. Revelation

_Revelation:_

"Miss, you are going to have to stay still," the elderly witch adjusting the bodice of my bridesmaid gown snaps at me for what feels like the millionth time.

"I'm sorry," I mutter and then turn my anger instead towards Leanne who is leaning casually against the back wall, smirking at me mercilessly. "Pink? Leanne, come on! I can't wear a pink dress."

"Oh, shut it. That dress is gorgeous." I look down at it appraisingly.

"Well, if it was only a different color," I groan.

"If you had shown up for the first fitting, then we might have been able to negotiate on the color."

I roll my eyes and try to refrain from cringing as the seamstresses cold fingers get a little too close to my bare skin for comfort.

"There, all done," she finally announces, throwing a large rectangular box into my hands. "Put the dress in there so that it won't wrinkle." Leanne follows me into the dressing area and puts the dress in the box for me. Obviously I don't know enough about clothing to keep it from wrinkling.

"So, back to wedding plans," Leanne says as we exit the shop. "You're still going to plan the rehearsal dinner, right? The time and the place is set, but if you're not going to do it I've got to hire a caterer and—"

"Calm down, Leanne. I'm still going to do it." She looks at me doubtfully. "What? I made a promise and I'm going to keep it."

"Well then why do you keep ignoring Oliver's letters? I know that you two are in a rocky place right now, but—"

"Has he really been sending me letters?" I ask, stopping in the middle of the street. Some part of me had been hoping that he was lying about that.

"Yeah, and he's been complaining to me when you don't reply."

"I haven't been getting any letters," I tell her worriedly. "I had to write him to set up an interview for work a few days ago and that was the first time I've had any contact with him since we broke up. I'd even forgotten that I had to do the planning for your wedding with him until Angelina told me."

"What are you suggesting, Katie?" Leanne says, pulling me with her as we enter Diagon Alley. "Oliver said that he's been writing twice a week for the past month. That much mail doesn't just disappear."

I keep my mouth shut and instead look around the deserted Alley. Once such a jovial place, the street is now silent, filled only with the shoppers who absolutely have to be there. Since it's the quickest way back to my flat, there are several days when I can't help but walk the dingy streets.

"I'm not lying, Leanne," I whisper, trying not to draw attention to us, but even that sound carries. Two cloaked figures turn to stare at us and my heart immediately flies into overdrive. "Maybe we should just get out of here," I mutter.

"Agreed. I'll talk to you later." She Disapparates and I increase my pace, heading towards Fred and George's joke shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, which is just around the corner. As always, it is the most vibrant shop in all of Diagon Alley, dulling the grays of those buildings nearby drastically.

I open the door to a packed shop and, not for the first time, my senses are overwhelmed. People are mulling about everywhere, glancing at products or having conversations amongst themselves.

And it seems that humans are not the only customers today.

I'm barely in the doorway before a large yellow bird comes swooping down towards my head.

"Whoa," I cry, ducking out of its way as it shoots back up towards the ceiling. "What the—"

"Some kid took it upon himself to taste test our merchandise," Fred explains, appearing out of nowhere, his arms laden with boxes and two large lollipops sticking out of his mouth.

"I thought you stopped leaving the Canary Creams opened," I argue.

"Yeah, we did. That's why I haven't changed him back yet. Can you help me with these boxes?"

Still staring at the bird, I grab the top two boxes and follow Fred through the crowd into the back room where he starts stocking shelves and motions for me to do the same.

"Busy day," I scream, trying to be heard over the ridiculous noise level.

"What?" Fred yells back, but before I can respond, George peeks his head around the corner.

"Need help with those boxes, Fred? Oh, hey Katie. Guess not." And he leaves without another word.

"So am I getting paid for this?" I joke.

"No. And you're putting the Decoy Detonators in the wrong place."

"Oh. Sorry," I mumble and continue stocking them in the wrong place. "Can't you do this by magic or something?"

"Where's the fun in that?" he asks seriously.

"The paycheck."

"Fine," he groans and points his wand at the boxes so that all of the products move to their right places on the shelves. "So what are you doing here, Ms. Bell?"

"I wanted to talk to you about something, but you're busy. I'll just come back later."

"Like I'm going to pass up an opportunity to get out of working," he says with a smirk and drags me back into the cacophony of the main room where George's arguing with an elderly woman clutching a terrorized canary in her hands.

"George, I'm taking my break," Fred yells across the shop.

"Wait—that's not fair! Fred! _Fred!_" But we're already gone. Fred drags me up the stairs into his and George's flat above their shop.

"So, is this about the interview you have to do with Oliver?" he asks, popping the top off of two Butterbeers

"Angelina told you? I figured she would."

"Yeah. And I need to discuss it with you," he says, his tone totally devoid of all sarcasm.

"I don't have a choice but to go, Fred. _The Prophet_ will fire me if I don't," I tell him, thinking that he's just against the idea of me interviewing Oliver. They've never gotten along very well.

"No, I know that. I just think that you need to be prepared."

"Prepared for what?" I ask with a laugh.

"Prepared for what's going on in his head."

"_You_ know what's going on in Oliver Wood's head?" I ask doubtfully.

"He's a twenty-one year old male, Katie. It's not that hard to figure out." I feel a blush rise to my cheeks; it's been a while since Fred's said anything that surprised me enough to make me blush.

"Fred, come on," I say, trying to get him to shut up. "I know how to take care of myself."

"That may be true, but your Dad is currently across the pond, so someone needs to tell you about this stuff."

"I'm almost nineteen! I _know_ already, Fred."

"Anyway," he continues, choosing to ignore me. I sigh, knowing that nothing I say is going to shut him up. "Since you haven't developed a skin condition or grown a beard since you went out with him, there's basically no chance that he's not going to be thinking about getting you in bed."

"Not everyone's you. Give him more credit than that."

"This is giving him more credit than he deserves. If a guy's ex-girlfriend shows up, looking like you do, the first thing on his mind is not going to be answering pointless questions for a newspaper article."

"Looking like I do?" I taunt. "How exactly do I look, Fred?"

"Not interested, Katie," he answers smartly and I roll my eyes. "Listen, just watch yourself okay. He'd be an idiot to make a move on you, especially since you've ignored him pointedly for three years, but just in case."

"Whatever."

"Katie…"

"I won't let him in my pants on a first date—swear."

"That's not exactly the answer I was going for," he warns me. "And speaking of guys that you're letting in your pants…"

"Damn," I mutter.

"Yes, once again I need to talk to you about Lee."

"Fine. What is it?"

"If you're adamant about the fact that the two of you aren't in a serious relationship, then I'm incredibly uncomfortable with the number of times I've walked in on the two of you in various states of undress."

"Well, if you would knock before entering someone's apartment, then we wouldn't have that problem, now would we?" He just looks at me expectantly. "Was there a question in there somewhere?" I ask.

"I just want to know if you actually like the guy. If you do, I won't argue, but it's so unlike you to rush into a relationship like this." And it's so unlike him to have an actual conversation without cracking at least one joke. This is wierd.

"How the hell would you know?" I counter. "The last guy I dated was Oliver."

"No. The last guy you _went out_ with was Oliver. You're not even going out with Lee. You're dating him. Are you in love with him, Katie? 'Cause if you're not…"

"If I'm not, then _what_?" I yell.

"Katie…"

"What are you insinuating, Fred?" He pauses for a second and then stares me straight in the eyes.

"Are you just using him?" My temper flares at that question and although I don't have a ready answer, yelling always works as a conversation filler.

"Don't even try to tell me that you've been in love with every single girl that you've shagged! You have no right to tell me what I can and can not do!"

"But do you love him?" he asks, never raising his voice at all.

"I can't deal with this right now," I mutter and head for the door. Thankfully, Fred doesn't follow me. I slam his door behind me and quickly head out of their shop into the deserted streets of Diagon Alley.

With my current mental state, Apparating would not be a very good idea, so I slowly make my way to the Leaky Cauldron. Where the hell does Fred get the nerve to question me about my intentions with Lee? I mean, sure, we're moving a bit fast, but I'm almost nineteen. I'm an adult! I can make my own damn decision.

And I do like Lee—I do!

Damn it to hell! How does Fred always manage to voice the things that my subconscious has been repressing? _Am_ I in love with Lee? Or do I just want sex? I know that that probably sounds incredibly teenage boyish, but I'm not going to lie. I _do_ want to have sex. And it's not just for the traditional reasons either. There's a war going on right now! With no way to know who will live to see tomorrow…I just don't want to die a virgin. Is that so totally ridiculous?

But I do have feelings for Lee. I wouldn't be with him at all if I didn't. It's obvious that he's more into it than I am, but I can get used to him right? Oliver spoiled me with this whole relationship thing.

I walk home from the Leaky Cauldron to find my flat empty, thankful for once that both Angelina and Alicia's jobs keep them out on Friday afternoons. I stumble to the couch and crash down onto it, dwelling on the inner workings of my messed up mind.

Lee likes me. A lot. He's liked me for a while but if he had asked me to go out with him back at Hogwarts, I never would have said yes. I'd just never imagined us together. Granted, it took me most of my sixth and seventh years to actually get over Oliver, but when he asked me out a few weeks ago I didn't even think. He wanted to go out and I didn't want to wreck our friendship, so I said yes.

Oh God…Could Fred actually have a point?

"Something wrong?" I hear Alicia ask from the other side of the room and I jump clean off of the couch.

"Bloody hell, Alicia! What are you doing home?"

"Got off early. Do you want to talk about it?" She comes over to join me on the couch and puts a comforting arm around my shoulder.

"Fred thinks that I may be using Lee and I don't know if it's true or not," I admit, surprising myself at how easy it is to voice my problems to her.

"Well, that seems pretty simple," she muses. "Do you have any feelings for Lee whatsoever?"

"Yes, I do. I'm attracted to him but—but sometimes I wonder. I mean, when I was dating Oliver, I'd get this amazing feeling every time that I saw him, every time that I even thought about him. That doesn't happen with Lee! I have feelings for him, but what if it's just sexual attraction?"

"Oliver was your first love. Nothing's going to compare to that—Wait! Does Fred think that you're using Lee for _sex_?"

"Yes! And please tell me that that's totally crazy!"

"Are you and Lee sleeping together?"

"No!"

"Well, do you want to?"

"That's a stupid question," I mutter.

"Do you want to know a secret, Katie?" she asks and I look at her warily. "George and I haven't had sex."

"What?" I ask, not believing what I'd heard.

"George and I have not had sex. I mean, I told him that he could tell the guys we were—I don't know if he did or not. I think that it was always just kind of assumed."

"But you've been dating him for like three and a half years!"

"Well, I didn't say that we weren't doing _anything_. For some reason I've just always wanted to wait, you know. He's fine with it. And he loves me enough to wait. I think that you need to ask yourself a question. If Lee told you that he wanted to wait until you were married to have sex, would you still be with him?"

"Alicia, what's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you, babe. It's just been a while since you've been with a guy and I think that you've convinced yourself that now's your last chance."

"What if it is my last chance?"

"It's not."

"Now I'm just confused," I groan. "Why did Fred have to bring this up?"

"Because he knows you better than you know yourself, Katie."

I close my eyes and try to concentrate on both my feelings for Lee and a possible solution to this predicament. Nothing comes to mind.

--

**Short chapter but I'll make up for it in the next one: the interview with Oliver! Thanks again for all of the reviews.**


	4. The Interview

**Disclaimer (because I don't think I've added one yet): I am not J. K. Rowling, nor will I ever be. **

_The Interview_:

After trying to avoid both Fred and Lee for days, it almost came as a relief when I set out for Oliver's on Sunday night. _Almost_. I take my time on the way to his place, trying to calm myself with slow, even steps. Instead of helping me, however, it just gives me extra time to dwell on all of the horrible things that could happen as soon as I arrive.

What if he doesn't want to see me again? What if he thinks that we're much better off not speaking? I'm not sure that I could handle that. I've dreamed of seeing him again for a long time and never in my imagination did our meeting have anything to do with him turning me away, but now that it's a reality I'm not so sure. It's been so long, what if Oliver's changed? What if professional Quidditch has turned him into some sort of egomaniac?

My heart pounding so loud I'm sure the neighbors can hear it, I slowly step up to his front door. I take a deep breath to prepare myself and raise my fist to knock. Before I can, however, a resounding bark comes from the other side of the door, making me jump. Since when does Oliver have a dog?

"Down boy," I hear an all too familiar voice call and I cringe as the butterflies in my stomach transform into thestrals. Oh God, I can't do this…

The door opens just enough for me to catch sight of Oliver holding the collar of a giant dog and my heart stops. His hair has grown a bit longer, draping over his face as he struggles to keep the animal from escaping. It even looks like he's grown a few inches since the last time I saw him and he's definitely tanner. His dark brown eyes meet mine and I'm unable to contain the torrent of feelings that suddenly rush over me. God, he hasn't changed a bit. Older, maybe, but he's as cute as ever.

"Who took my place as Keeper on the Gryffindor House Quidditch team?" he asks and as strange as it may seem, I'm used to being asked random questions to prove my identity.

"Ron Weasley," I answer. "Who was Seeker your fourth year at Hogwarts?"

"Charlie Weasley." We stand there awkwardly for a few seconds, his head still sticking out of the door in order to keep his dog from escaping. "Well, come in," he says, throwing open the door. I quickly step through and pull it shut behind me.

Oliver lets go of his dog, who immediately runs over to me and tries to lick my face as Oliver relocks the door. I try to silently push the dog off of me, but to no avail.

"Bludger, down," Oliver sighs, unable to hide the smile that appears on his lips. He pulls the dog down by his collar. "I'm sorry about him," Oliver says, leading me towards the kitchen and dragging Bludger along behind him. "I can put him up if he's bugging you."

"No, not at all," I say and bend down to pet Bludger just to have something to do. "Such a good doggie," I say and mentally slap myself. Did I just say 'doggie' in front of Oliver Wood?

I slowly stand up to face Oliver who's lounging against his kitchen island barefoot. Unable to keep eye contact for longer than a few seconds, I look around his place. It's a decent size—I guess all of that money from Quidditch does pay off. It had the distinct air of being cleaned in a hurry, but for some reason that just made it seem cozier.

"Uh, nice place," I say in order to break the silence, but Oliver just keeps staring at me. After two seconds, I look away. He never was the kind of guy to dwell on small talk but I thought that maybe this once he might want to help me out just a bit.

"It's been a while," he finally says. "You look good." I can't help the smile that rises to my lips, but then again it's hard not to smile around Oliver. Especially not since I'm getting all of these flashbacks from my fourth year with him.

"It definitely has been a while," I agree.

We relapse once again into silence and I take to staring at Bludger who's currently chewing on a bone in the corner. It's not even like Oliver and I don't have anything to talk about. Leanne and Cullen's wedding for one—we have to plan the rehearsal dinner. Not to mention the fact that a good 'What have you been up to?' always seems to work after three years of not speaking.

"Okay, this is ridiculous," Oliver finally says and heads over to his refrigerator where he pulls out a bottle of Firewhiskey and pours two glasses. "Drink," he demands and I don't need telling twice. I drain half of it in one gulp and wince as it burns my throat on the way down.

"This is awkward," I finally admit as if that wasn't already obvious. This shouldn't be this uncomfortable. I mean, Oliver and I didn't really end on a bad note; if we had I wouldn't be here at all. It was just a falling out. It was really just an impossibility for us to stay together.

"We're just two old friends...talking," Oliver says.

"Well, I think old friends would have probably communicated, at least a little bit, in their time apart."

"Now that's not fair," Oliver says with a smirk. "I've been trying to get in touch with you. It's not my fault that you don't write back."

"Ugh," I groan, much louder than intended. "I haven't been getting any bloody letters!"

His brows furrow in confusion. "But that's impossible. Why would anyone take your mail?"

"I don't know!" I cry. "That's what's scaring me. I don't see how my mail could be watched. I mean, I got that letter to you, no problem."

"Well, maybe…" It 's obvious that he is just as clueless as I am, so I decide to change the subject and try to figure out about my missing mail on my own.

"Listen, I don't want to talk about my post right now. But I am sorry if you thought I was ignoring you. I'd never do that."

"You know, I think I knew that all along. So, what about this interview?" He moves us into the living room where he takes a seat on the couch and I sit a safe distance away on the neighboring chair.

"Okay," I start. "Well—"

"Hold on," Oliver says, holding up a hand to stop me. "There's going to be a few rules to this. You know that I don't do interviews very often." I nod. It's common knowledge, which was why I was confused as to why he agreed to do this one. "I don't like them, they make me uncomfortable and the only reason I agreed to do this was because I knew you were working for _The Prophet_."

Okay, well I wasn't expecting that.

"What?" I ask. "There are over twenty on-staff reporters. The chances of you getting me—"

"—were greatly increased by the fact that you're a girl. It's a well known fact that _The Prophet_ only sends out female reporters to interview male Quidditch players."

"Are you serious?" I ask and he laughs at my naïveté.

"Yeah," he answers, "but that's not even the point. After you got yourself stuck in St. Mungo's for months, I just really wanted to see you again."

"I've been out of St. Mungo's for almost six months," I can't help but add.

"Well, better late than never," he finally replies and I just nod. "And this is how this interview's going to work. For every question you ask me, I get to ask you one in return. Deal?"

I stare at him for a few seconds and it's so easy to imagine the same Oliver that I went out with sitting there. He really hasn't changed and I find myself eternally grateful for that fact. I feel a smile begin to rise to my lips.

"Deal," I agree and begin unpacking from my bag a piece of parchment and a quill. "It writes down exactly what you say and nothing else," I promise. He doesn't seem too concerned and just leans back on the couch. "Boring questions first: What made you want to play Quidditch professionally?"

"I don't know really. I just feel in love with it, I guess. My uncle bought me a toy broom against my parent's wishes when I was like three. My parent's hid it, but I always managed to find it and sneak out into our backyard to fly around. I played at Hogwarts; yeah, you know that don't you. Just became an addiction." I smirk, unable to believe that Oliver actually admitted that he has an addiction.

"That's a lot of determination for a three year old," I comment.

"It was a bloody brilliant broom." I can't help but laugh.

"It's your turn," I remind him.

"Oh right. Why the hell are you working for _The Daily Prophet_?" I knew that question would come up eventually.

"It pays the bills," I answer simply. "I mean, there's no way that I was going to work for the Ministry—and yes I know that _The Prophet_ is just as bad, but I'm only a sport's reporter. I'd never write anything bad about Dumbledore or Harry. I just—I don't have the patience to train to be an Auror or a Healer, I don't have the talent to play Quidditch, I don't have the business skills to be an entrepreneur, and as unlikely as it may seem, I really like my job. I get to go to all of the games for free and am paid to write about them. It's the perfect profession for me."

"You're wrong," he says after a while.

"Excuse me?"

"About not having the talent to play Quidditch. You're really good."

"It's just not what I want to do with my life," I admit. And the person sitting in front of me is half the reason why. I could never deal with all of the stress that he used to go through.

"But you're happy?" he asks seriously.

"Yeah, I am," I answer truthfully. "So you tried out for the house team in second year, right?"

"Yeah. Charlie Weasley was captain and I seriously thought that he was trying to kill us. He was a great player."

"I think I know another Gryffindor captain that was trying to murder their team," I say with a smirk.

"I wasn't that bad!"

"Oh come on, Oliver. Your seventh year you tried to drown yourself in a shower after we lost a game!"

"I bet Angelina was worse than me."

"Maybe towards the beginning, but she gave up after Harry and the twins got kicked off of the team. She still won the Cup though."

"Well, what about Harry?"

"He was like a million times better than you. The Anti-Oliver, if you will."

"You know what? I think it's my turn to ask a question," he says with a laugh.

"No it's not," I argue.

"Yes it is. Why didn't you ever write me or anything?" The question's serious but I can hear the laugh behind his words.

"I could ask you the same thing," I note.

"And I could give you an answer. You were holed up at Hogwarts with Umbridge."

"What does that matter?" I answer with a laugh.

"I don't know, but it sounded smart."

"Fine. If that's how it's going to be, I didn't write to you because you must have been busy practicing with Puddlemere all the time. Why should I bother you with letters?" I say sarcastically.

"You know what I think?" he says. "I think you just didn't want to talk to me."

"Yeah, I think that you might be right," I joke although be both know that it's the truth. "I wasn't mad at you if that's what you're asking," I answer truthfully.

"No?"

"No. I was never mad at you."

After that the questions just started flowing and as opposed to feeling like an interview, it felt more like two friends catching up after a long time apart which, in some ways I guess it was. I continually asked him questions about Quidditch and his life as a famous player and got a bunch of stuff that I'll somehow have to make sound interesting in return. Of course, fans will probably find it all fascinating but I already knew most of it from dating him anyway.

In return, he delved into the inter workings of the people around me day-to-day. He asked about my dad (currently living in the United States for his own safety), Angelina, Fred, and pretty much any other thing that randomly popped into his head. He never asked me about Lee, which was a major tip off that somehow he already knew we were dating and we both avoided such serious topics as the war.

A few hours later, the interview was totally forgotten and we sat side by side on his couch, leaning over an enormous seating chart for the rehearsal dinner. And let me just say that Leanne is totally out of her mind. She provided us with the guest list, which is actually quite long—I didn't know that that many people were supposed to attend the rehearsal dinner—but spread open in between Oliver and me was a list of people who could and couldn't sit next to each other. There were so many rules that the task of assigning everyone somewhere to sit was much more than a chore—it was a puzzle.

"That's not going to work," Oliver cries with a laugh for about the fifth time.

"Why the hell not!" I exclaim.

"Look," he says pointing to the rules and I read aloud where he's pointing.

"'Don't sit Ethan and Cheryl by each other. They don't get along.' Well, I don't get along with half of Leanne's friends, but you don't see any rule against that! Who are Ethan and Cheryl anyway? I have never heard of them in my life."

"I don't think they're any of Cullen's friends. I've never heard him mention them," Oliver says and scans through the bridal party once more. "Oh. Um, Katie…"

I look over to where he's pointing once again. "'Ethan: ring bearer; Cheryl: flower girl' Okay, we officially suck at this. And I thought that the Best Man had the ring."

"He does," Oliver says. "The ring bearer's just symbolic."

"Of what?"

"I don't know. I'm not the one getting married." He scans the guest list once more. "So you're not bringing a date?" he asks.

"Oh, um—no," I stutter.

"That's fine. I just thought that you were dating—"

"I am," I interrupt. "He has to work." At least I think that he has to work. The honest truth is that I didn't think that the rehearsal dinner was that big of a deal. I didn't think that I would need a date. I look over the guest list once again and am pleased to find that Oliver doesn't have a date either. Of course, that doesn't necessarily mean that he doesn't have a girlfriend…

"I've caught his show a few times," Oliver says and it takes me a second to realize what he's talking about. Oh right, Lee. "He's good."

"He's going to get killed if he continues the way he is," I mutter.

We both drift back into silence and I look down at my watch in order to give me something to do. I do a double take and jump off of the couch so fast that I spill the bowl of popcorn that we had sitting between us. Bludger immediately gets up to clean the mess.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," I groan.

"Not a problem," he laughs. "What's wrong?" I put my watch under his nose as I slip my shoes back on. "Bloody hell. It can't be midnight!"

"I have to get back. Alicia freaks when I'm late. Hopefully she's out with George tonight."

"You can floo out," he says.

"Thank you," I say as we head over to his fireplace. I take a handful of floo powder and am about to throw it into the grate when Oliver stops me.

"Listen, I'm not trying to worry you or anything, but will you please ask your roommates if they've been stopping your mail? It's probably just a misunderstanding, but I want to make sure that you're safe."

"Yeah, I will," I assure him.

"And we still haven't finished that chart," he reminds me.

"Give me a time and a place and we will," I say with a smile.

"I'll owl you."

"Just in case you haven't noticed, that particular branch of communication hasn't seemed to be working for us too well."

"I'll make sure it does. Bye, Katie."

"Bye," I say and throw the floo powder into the flames that transport me back to my thankfully deserted flat.

--

**A/N: I think that this chapter deserves a review…**

_Next time on _Love and War:

"_Oliver, I forgot to ask you something for my article. Do you have a girlfriend?"_

"_Um, yeah."_

**Review!**


	5. Complicated

**A/N: I just want to start this chapter by thanking every single person who reviewed the last chapter. I love you all and I hope you like this next installment of Love and War :)**

--

_Complicated_:

"So?" I ask Angelina expectantly as soon as she sets down my draft of the interview with Oliver.

"It was good," she says with a smile that I can see right through. I groan and collapse onto the seat next to her.

"But…" I prompt.

"Well…"

"Angelina, come on," I beg. My toughest critic and best advisor, Angelina's the main reason that I still have a job at _The Prophet_. She's great at helping with the writer's block.

"It's…kind of boring. Informative, definitely; Malcolm'll eat it up, but what about the general public? With You-Know-Who going around killing people left, right, and center, the world needs a little gossip to keep it spinning 'round."

I bury my face into my hands. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Does he have a girlfriend?" Angelina asks eagerly.

"You're taken," I point out.

"I don't care. Does he have a girlfriend?" she repeats.

"I don't know!" I cry. "I wasn't about to ask him that!"

"Well, were there feminine-like touches to his place? Curtains, potted plants, bras?" I just shake my head. "Surely the Great Oliver Wood is dating _somebody_... Just figure it out."

"Figure what out?"

"If he has a girlfriend," she explains as if I was a toddler, "and work it into the article. It'll be great."

"Are you completely daft? What do you want me to do? Show up at his door, just out of the blue, and ask if he has a girlfriend? And, oh yeah, why don't I ask him if he prefers boxers or briefs while I'm at it?"

"He's always struck me as a boxers man," she muses.

"Angelina!"

"No, Katie, of course that's not what I'm saying! And I don't want you to make something up like all of the other reporters at _The Daily Prophet_, but if he does show up to help with the rehearsal dinner, then it can't hurt to ask."

"My deadline's in three days," I complain.

"Well then if the chance doesn't present itself, it's not a big deal. It's a good article."

"Thanks," I mutter rather dejectedly.

"So, do you have plans for tonight?" she changes the subject.

"Uh, yeah. Lee's taking me to dinner."

"Oh! Have fun!" she exclaims. I just groan. "What's wrong? Aren't you two getting on well?"

"I don't know," I mutter. "But I didn't tell him about the interview with Oliver, so…"

"Yikes," she finishes for me.

"Yeah," I agree. "I don't know why I didn't. It's not like I had a choice in the matter..."

"Lee's very protective of you."

"That's no excuse; I'm horrible to him."

"So, are you going to tell him?"

"Yeah; I will tonight. I'd rather him be mad at me now instead of at Bill and Fleur's wedding the day after the article appears."

"Good thinking."

"Yeah, just not good planning on my part."

--

Minutes before Lee was scheduled to Apparate to our flat I was rushing around frantically, trying to find my missing shoe. Some people lose socks; I lose shoes.

"Katie, you here?" I hear Lee's voice call from our living room. Curse his punctuality.

"Yeah, just a minute," I reply. Still shoeless, I slip into Alicia's room and grab a pair of her heels. Lee said to dress up so here I am…in a dress and heels. God, I'm crazy.

"Hey," I greet as I enter the room, both shoes now placed firmly on my feet.

"Hey," he repeats and hurries forward to give me a kiss on the cheek. "You look great."

"Thanks," I reply. We slowly drift into silence which, as unbelievable as it may seem, has never happened with us before. Probably because I still see him as more of a friend than a romantic interest…conversation just never hits a lull. It's the silence that tips me off to his intentions. "Is everything okay?"

He rubs his forehead in frustration and I can tell that this isn't just your average date. He has a motive behind this. Great. And it's even worse because I'm standing here knowing that all of his frustrations are my fault.

"Okay, listen," he starts. "I didn't want to do this here, but it's probably better than at a crowded restaurant anyway."

I wait expectantly, but I think he's waiting on me to say something first. "Just tell me, Lee. I won't get mad at you, I swear." And it's the truth because with all of the torture this boy's having to endure for me, I have no room to complain about anything he says.

"I'm falling in love with you, Katie. And it hurts because I can see that you don't feel the same way. And that would be fine if you had feelings for me at all—I could wait for you to care as much as do—but I'm not sure that you do. Why won't you agree to be my girlfriend? I just need to know that one little fact and I will leave you alone forever if that's what you really want."

"That's not what I want," I say when I can't think of an answer to his question. He waits.

"Katie, stop me if I'm wrong, but I don't think that this is fair to me."

"It's not," I agree. "I'm a horrible person, I know. Lee, you are a great guy and some girl is going to be lucky to have you, but—"

"—you're not that girl. I knew that it was a long shot getting into this…I knew that you weren't ready, but I pushed you anyway. I guess I owe you an apology too."

"You don't owe me anything. I—" I'm interrupted by a knock at my door and my hand jumps immediately to my wand. I walk slowly over and glance through the peep hole. Damn.

"Um, Lee," I begin in a rush. "There's something I have to tell you real fast."

"Is now really the best time?" he asks, glancing at the door.

"Yeah, perfect time actually. The other day I went to Oliver Wood's house—for business, I swear. I was assigned to write an article about him for _The Prophet_. We met, I did the interview, and that was it!"

He throws another wary glance to the door as a second knock rings out. I glance through the peep hole once more. For reasons unbeknownst to me, Oliver's is standing on my doorstep with an owl perched on his shoulder. What the hell is going on?

"If it was nothing, then what is he doing here now?" Lee asks coldly, obviously guessing who's standing on the other side of the door. Another knock.

"Just a minute," I call and begin undoing the protective enchantments guarding the flat. "I don't know what he's doing here but be nice," I whisper. Lee rolls his eyes and I pull the door open.

"Hey?" I greet.

"Katie, I figured it out!" He walks through the door and stops dead at the sight of Lee. "Oh, hi Lee." Oliver slowly takes in our clothing. "Oh shit…sorry. I'll just come back later." I want to stop him, but with Lee there, I don't think that it would be such a good idea.

"Don't go, mate," Lee says, staring directly at me. "I was just leaving. Talk to you later, Katie." He gives my hand one last squeeze and then Disapparates, leaving me more confused than ever.

Did we just break up? Or not? That wasn't very final...

Oliver and I stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds. "So, what did you figure out?" I finally ask and he immediately forgets his awkwardness as he begins explaining.

"Well, I was going to owl you to ask if you could come over and finish that seating chart—Coach cancelled practice, thank God. Anyway, I put the letter in Aphrodite's letter pouch," he says, gesturing to the owl on his shoulder that does in fact have a leather envelope attached to her leg. "And then I got distracted because I was thinking about why you weren't getting your letters and I forgot whether I had put the letter in the envelope at all. So I opened it to check and the letter was gone!"

"You'd forgotten to put it in the pouch?" I ask, confused.

"No! I know that I put it in the pouch. I'll prove it; do you have some parchment?"

I grab a piece off of the table and hand it to him. He scribbles around on it for a few seconds before folding it and carefully printing 'Katie Bell' on the outside. He puts it inside the pouch once more and steps back. I stare at the owl expectantly, but she just hoots at me.

"Well, check," Oliver prompts and I slowly step forward to open the envelope.

"The letter's gone," I say stunned.

"There's a spell on that pouch," Oliver says, walking over and gently stroking his owl. "Someone really doesn't want me talking to you. It works fine when I'm writing to everyone else. The thing is that I can't remember where I got this from—I think it was a gift…"

"That's so weird," I mutter.

"And still a complete mystery. Who wouldn't want me talking to you?"

"Angelina and Alicia both said they had nothing to do with stopping my mail. And I don't think that they had anything to do with this either."

"I don't know…maybe it's someone on my end."

"Who on your end knows me?" I question.

"Well, no one, but…" I groan in frustration although I do feel slightly better. At least I know no one is watching my flat or anything.

"So, do you have the seating chart stuff with you now?" I ask as we revert back into silence.

"Oh, no," he answers sheepishly. "I got kind of excited and headed straight over here. But if you want to come back to my place with me—"

"I'll go change." He just nods as I step into my room. I quickly change into a much more comfortable outfit and rejoin Oliver where he Apparates us both to his place.

When we arrive, he excuses himself to go get the seating chart that we'd started and I entertain myself by looking around his place once more. Obviously not prepared for my arrival, clothes and food are scattered everywhere but the mess is in no way overwhelming. Kind of cute, actually. Quidditch equipment, magazines, and various clothing items (no bras included) litter the sofa and floor. I can't help but laugh to myself as I clear us a spot on the couch.

"Sorry about the mess," he apologizes, almost tripping over a stray suitcase on his way over to me. "We just got back from a scrimmage against the Appleby Arrows yesterday. I haven't had time to straighten up."

"It's not a problem. Much more homely than last time."

"What about your place?" he jokes. "It's pristine."

"Yeah, well it helps that we're barely ever there." He raises one eyebrow doubtfully. "Seriously! Angelina has practice six days a week and when she's off she's either asleep or out with Fred. Alicia works a twelve hour day so it's the same deal with her. I'm the only one with reasonable working hours and I get lonely very easily. I'm normally helping the twins out at their shop or off with Lee." Well, maybe not anymore by the sound of it.

"Angelina only has practice six days a week?" Oliver asks and I roll my eyes. "That's not bloody fair!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean. You practice an extra day out of the week and they can still kick your ass."

"How did I ever put up with you at Hogwarts?"

"I have no clue." He just smirks at me.

"So, where are we going to put that pesky little flower girl?" he asks, looking down at the chart.

"How about with her parents," I suggest.

"Good idea."

A few hours, one large pizza, and a quick owl to Leanne later, I look through our finished seating chart.

"I think we're done here," I say, surprised. "No ex-couples, fighting siblings, or disconnected friends are sitting next to each other. What do you think, Mr. Wood?" I pass the chart to him.

"It looks good to me," he says with a shrug and folds the chart to give back to Leanne. "I guess that means we're done. I told her not to, but I think that Leanne did everything else."

"That girl just doesn't trust us," I say sarcastically.

"No she doesn't," he sighs and takes a swig of Firewhiskey. "So, what's going on with you and Lee anyways?" The question takes me by surprise and I turn to look at him abruptly.

"It's complicated," I say. It's not exactly a subject I want to breach. Not now. And definitely not with him.

"But you two are still together, right?"

"I don't know," I sigh. "We were never really going out—just dating. No strings attached." And as soon as that comes out of my mouth, all of my relationship problems seem to fall into place.

Friends with benefits. That's what he is to me, isn't it? God, I could kill myself for doing this to him. It's all my damn fault!

My aggravation at myself disappears, however, when I notice Oliver's eyes locked on mine. Everything else vanishes in comparison to the intensity of our gaze. "Oh," he finally says, acknowledging my comment although I can't be exactly sure whether he'd heard me or not.

"Katie," he sighs and in that moment everything feels so natural. Before I can comprehend what we're doing, our lips meet in a fierce embrace. It takes me a few seconds to realize what's happening and when I finally do, I can't say I'm too put out about it.

He pulls me onto his lap and I straddle him, intertwining my fingers through his hair. I've kissed Oliver before, but it's never been like this—not this needy, not this necessary. It's like I haven't truly breathed in years and he's the air I've been longing for.

His lips travel to my neck and when he gently nips the skin there, I can't hold back my sigh. I pull his face back up to mine and can barely hold back the smile when our tongues meet. God, I've missed this.

I gently guide his hand up to my breast, knowing from experience that he won't do it himself. To my surprise, he doesn't lower it as he used to, but expertly begins undoing the top buttons of my shirt before slipping his right hand under the fabric. A chill races through my body.

I reach down for his belt, but before I can get it off the sound of someone Apparating into the house startles me off of him. He rubs his head in disbelief as I hastily re-button my shirt.

"Seriously, mate. The living room?" A smirking, long-haired blonde boy says just feet from us, raising one eyebrow suggestively. Around Oliver's age, I quickly recognize him as one of Puddlemere's Beaters. "You must be Katie," he says, holding out a hand for me to shake.

I look over at Oliver and notice that his cheeks are bright red. Has he been discussing me with his teammates?

"Katie, this is my roommate Ben. Ben, Katie," he introduces.

"Nice to meet you," I say, taking Ben's proffered hand.

"Yeah right," he says with a smirk. "I'm just going to go to my room now. You can continue what you were doing."

Oliver and sit there in silence as he disappears, both not knowing quite what to do. Why did I just kiss him? Well actually he kissed me...I think.

And is this a good thing? Probably not…not with what just happened with Lee. And Oliver and I were just starting to form a working friendship! God, how do I always manage to screw things up?

"I'm going to just…go," I finally say awkwardly, not sure whether my feet will support me if I try to stand.

"Yeah okay," Oliver says, not quite meeting my eyes.

"So I guess I'll see you around," I mutter, though I know it's a lie. If I see him before Leanne's rehearsal at the end of the month, it's going to be purely by accident.

"Yeah," he says and I walk over to the fireplace preparing to floo out when I remember something.

"Hey, Oliver?" I ask, and silently curse myself. Why am I pressing this now? "I forgot to ask you something for my article."

"Yeah?" he asks expectantly.

"Do you, um, have a girlfriend?"

He looks off to the wall for a second before responding. "Yeah," he answers guiltily.

"Oh, okay. Um…bye." I floo out before he can stop me, although I highly doubt that he would have wanted to.

When I arrive at my flat, I'm rather unsurprised to find Angelina and Fred making out on our couch. They barely even look up as I arrive. Even though I should feel horrible about what just happened, I can't help but smile.

"Are you okay?" Fred asks.

"No; I'm actually quite fucked up," I answer cheerfully. He just shrugs and pulls Angelina back to him.

--

**A/N: Haha. Hope you liked it.**

_Next time on _Love and War: _Bill and Fleur's wedding and a look inside the complicated Weasley family. _

**Review!**


	6. The Wedding

**A/N: Not JKR.**

_The Wedding:_

"Katie, please tell me you're almost ready," Angelina whines, yelling at me from down the hallway. "The wedding starts in like an hour and I promised Fred I'd get there a little early."

"I'm trying to find my other shoe," I call back.

"It's in here," I hear Alicia reply after a few seconds. I roll my eyes at my own stupidity and trudge down the hall.

"Why are my shoes never where I leave them?" I complain, slipping it on.

"Well, because they get up and walk off, of course," Alicia jokes and I reach out to hit her playfully, only to almost lose my balance because of the heels I'm now wearing.

"Can we just go?" Angelina begs, bouncing from foot to foot.

"What is your problem? Do you and Fred have plans to shag before the wedding or something?" I joke.

"No; she's worried about all of Fleur's veela cousins," Alicia taunts.

"I am not! But really! Is it safe to invite them to a family wedding?" Angelina asks angrily.

Alicia rolls her eyes and Disapparates to the Burrow.

"How rude," Angelina mutters and I give her a small wave before following Alicia's lead.

Alicia and I arrive laughing a little ways down the lane that leads to the Weasley's house. Angelina joins us a few seconds later.

"And you call yourselves my friends," she says with a grin. We fall into line behind an elderly couple and continue conversing, trying to keep our voices low.

I let Angelina and Alicia do most of the talking and just nod at the appropriate times, hoping that they don't realize what I'm doing. I've been doing this a lot in the past few days—letting my mind travel instead to the kiss that I shared with Oliver.

God, I'm such an idiot. I knew he'd have a girlfriend—I knew it! Oliver's too great of a guy _not_ to have a girlfriend.

But who could it be?

"Katie? Katie! Are you even listening to me?" I hear Angelina's voice as if from a distance and I turn abruptly to face her.

"Um…what?"

"Stop thinking about him," Alicia groans. "This can't be healthy."

Second mistake in less than a week: telling her and Angelina what happened. But I made them swear not to tell anyone else first—that has to count for something.

"But who could it be?" I cry and Angelina and Alicia both roll their eyes. "My galleon's still on Puddlemere's Seeker..."

"It's not Amanda!" Angelina says exasperatedly. "I already told you—I know Amanda. She has a boyfriend and it's not Oliver."

"But—"

"No buts, Katie," Alicia cuts in. "Just let us enjoy this wedding, please.

"I hate weddings," I mutter.

"Have you ever been to one before?" Alicia counters.

"Well no, but—"

"Then you can't know if you hate them or not." Well, okay then. I hate the concept of weddings.

"Wonder what George looks so mad about?" Angelina asks as soon as we're close enough to catch sight of George, his brother Ron, and another pudgy red-haired person each waiting to lead a group of people to their seats.

"Auntie Muriel," Fred answers her question, appearing out of nowhere and making me jump. "She told George his ears were lopsided. He's been in a right mood ever since."

"Poor boy," Alicia mutters and walks off without another word. I watch as she arrives at George's side, receiving angry looks from those still waiting in line, and avert my attention back to Fred just in time to see him motioning frantically for Angelina to leave.

"What's going on?" I ask warily.

"Nothing!" they exclaim together.

"I was just thinking I'd go talk to…Ron! About changes to the house team, you know," Angelina says quickly.

"With Snape as Headmaster there's not going to be a house team," I comment, but she ignores me and immediately heads over to talk to a very confused Ron.

"What's going on?" I repeat, turning to Fred.

"Nothing, m'dear," he replies, interlacing our arms and pulling me onto the lawn where a giant golden marquee is set up. "I'm just here to question you about a simple observation I made earlier. You and Lee are here alone. Merely wondering why that is."

"Shut it, Fred. Lee and I are not together anymore. At least I don't think so."

"Katie, you two are perfect together!" he cries outraged. "Why would you just throw that away?"

"Are you bloody crazy? Just a week ago you were telling me to dump him if I didn't have feelings for him! I did and now you're yelling at me. Make up your mind!"

"I told you not to _use_ him; I said nothing about breaking up with him. There is a difference, you know." Typical Fred: tell me one thing and mean another. "Is this because of Oliver?" he accuses as we near the marquee.

"What? No! Lee and I are just better off as friends."

"It better not have anything to do with Oliver. You'll just end up getting hurt again."

"Fred, you have absolutely no right to—" My words die in my throat as I notice Mrs. Weasley, dressed in the most beautiful dress robes I've ever seen, exit her house with an apron wrapped around her. She's carrying a butcher's knife in one hand and a watering can in the other. "Um, Fred…"

He turns around and rolls his eyes. "Not again."

He's about to run after her when George shouts across the lawn, "Fred, get your butt over here! We need your help." Fred looks back and forth between his brothers and his mother.

"Katie, can you please…" He gestures towards his mother who is heading for the garden out behind their house.

"She has a knife," I exclaim.

"She's just stressed—keeps trying to find different things to do around the house," he says exasperated. " Her oldest son getting married and everything has just freaked her out."

"Um…"

"Please."

I sigh in defeat. "You owe me," I mutter and run after his mother. "Mrs. Weasley," I call when I get close enough.

"Oh, why hello Katie, dear," she greets and, seeming to forget what she's doing, she turns to me with a smile. "Do you want some tea?"

"Um…sure."

"Good. Something to get my mind off of things, you know?" she says leading me towards the Burrow. I look behind my shoulder longingly but Fred is no where in sight.

We enter the Burrow from the kitchen and although people are running in every direction trying to get the bride and groom ready, Mrs. Weasley pours me a cup of tea.

"So, how have you been dear? I haven't seen you since Fred and George moved out."

"Um, good," I say, looking around the room desperately for help but none of the house's many patrons make eye contact. This was obviously a set up; Fred just wanted someone to keep her busy. I'm going to kill him. "How are you, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Oh well, you know," she says and I immediately see her eyes well up with tears. "It's j-just…Bill—married. It's so hard to believe." The tears begin flowing down her face and she dabs at them with a handkerchief. I can't even handle _myself_ when I'm crying…what am I supposed to do with her?

"But he's so happy," I try and she smiles through her tears.

"I know; I'm being ridiculous. I just keep thinking—I mean, next it'll be Charlie and then P-P-Percy." This time I can't stop the tears as they come. This is out of my hands.

Her wails must have attracted the attention of those upstairs because a few seconds later a red-haired man appears at the top of the stairs. I've never seen him before, but I know from the burn marks on his hands that it must be Charlie.

He quickly takes in the scene and holds up a finger as if to say 'just a minute' before disappearing up the stairs once again. I wait patiently, occasionally reaching over to rub her back comfortingly. Thankfully, it's not much longer before Charlie comes back, Ginny in his wake. She stops dead in her tracks as she notices her mother.

"No," I see her mouth to her older brother.

"Yes," Charlie replies, also mouthing the words.

"Charlie, no."

"It's your turn." He shoves her past him just enough to get her off of the stairs. She comes to a halt as soon as she hits the landing.

"Mum, we need your help upstairs," Ginny says through clenched teeth and it is obvious that the words are rehearsed. Mrs. Weasley's tears slow dramatically at the sight of two of her children.

"Oh, but Katie and I were having such a nice tea," she says glancing at me with a smile.

I'm at a loss for words so Charlie cuts in. "I'll entertain her, Mum. Bill's getting sick of my taunting anyway." Mrs. Weasley glances between us and, as if pleased with the pairing, gets up from her seat. She bypasses Ginny and approaches Charlie who's leaning casually on the back wall by the stairs.

Even from a distance I hear her whisper into his ear, "She's too young for you."

Ginny and I both try to contain our laughs.

"Are you coming up, Ginny?" Mrs. Weasley asks from the top of the stairs.

"I'll be up in a minute," she promises and as soon as her mother's out of eyesight, she sits down at the table next to me and immediately grabs some sort of tart that's sitting in front of us.

"I haven't had any sweets in days," she whines, picking up another one. "'You vill not fit in your dress'," she says in a perfect imitation of Fleur. "Well here I am, in the dress, and I'm going to have a bloody dessert."

"Ginny," Charlie warns, taking the seat next to me. "Language." Ginny just rolls her eyes and turns back to me. We actually got quite close during Quidditch my sixth year, but I haven't seen her since I graduated.

"Fred send you in here?" she asks with a smirk, grabbing yet another tart.

"Yeah, and he's not going to live to see your brother's wedding," I answer.

"Are you Fred's girlfriend?" Charlie inquires. I'm about to answer when Ginny cuts in.

"No—that's Angelina, Charlie. The real tall, pretty, black girl. I swear; if you'd pay more attention to your own family this wouldn't happen. They've been going out for years."

"The girl who plays for the Harpies?" Charlie asks after a while.

"Very good," Ginny praises patronizingly.

"Ginny, dear," Mrs. Weasley's voice comes from the stairs. "Leave Charlie and Katie alone. Fleur needs help with her tiara." Ginny rolls her eyes but heads for the stairs nonetheless.

"What does it matter, Mum?" she calls. "I thought you said she was too young for him? Which doesn't really make sense because Bill's six years older than Fleur, too."

I feel a blush work its way to my cheeks as she disappears.

"When I decide to get married, I am _not_ telling Mum," Charlie says with a laugh.

"She's going to be okay, right?" I ask, only half jokingly.

"Eventually," he says. "She's mainly just upset that Percy's not here. Your own brother's wedding…who does that?"

"It must suck."

He just nods mutely before changing the subject. "So, Ginny was telling me that you're just as big of an idiot as me." I crinkle my brows in confusion. "Katie Bell, right?" I nod. "She says you were dead set for the Harpies but you turned them down."

"Now, that's not totally true," I defend myself. "I was in St. Mungo's for half of my seventh year. I missed the scouts completely."

"You're that girl who got cursed by the necklace?"

"Yeah, not a high point in my life," I answer with a laugh. "But it did get me out of McGonagall's class for a semester. I just didn't want to play Quidditch for a living. I play for fun—not money."

"No, I get it," he says, leaning his chair back on two legs and propping his feet onto the table. "I just wish Ginny would leave me alone about turning down England."

The kitchen door opens abruptly and Charlie quickly puts his chair back onto four legs. Realizing that it's Fred, he shifts to two once more.

"This is not who I left you with," Fred comments, glancing back and forth from me to Charlie. "Where's Mum?"

"Upstairs," we answer simultaneously.

"Okay…creepy. You're supposed to be in your seat, Katie. The ceremony starts in a few minutes."

"Yeah, I know. And in case you've forgotten, you're supposed to take me there."

"Oh right."

"Jackass," I mutter.

"Shh," Fred and Charlie both cry, Fred putting his hand over my mouth.

"Are you crazy?" Fred whispers.

"Yeah, I wasn't joking when I told Ginny to watch her language earlier. I'm twenty-four, but God forbid I swear in this house," Charlie says.

"You swear all the time, Fred," I point out.

"But here I don't. Now, can you please get to your seat?"

"I don't know where it is," I say through clenched teeth. A wide grin comes across his face and I can tell that this is not going to be good.

"Next to Lee," he says smugly. "Maybe you two can work things out."

"Fred!" I cry enraged, leaping up from my seat.

"What?" he says with a laugh. "When I reserved your seats, you were together. I can't do anything about your timing."

"Fred!"

"Listen, Katie, I really can't do anything. I tried, I swear. Why do you think I sent you in here after Mum?" Even though I can tell he's being sincere, it doesn't ebb the flow of my anger.

"Whatever," I grumble. "Nice meeting you, Charlie."

"Yeah, you too."

Without checking to see if Fred's following me or not, I step out onto the lawn, heading once again for the giant golden marquee.

"Such an arrogant ass," I mutter when I realize that Fred is not coming to help me find my seat. I work my way through the rows of people as efficiently as possible and soon spot Lee leaned over a row of seats and flirting heavily with several blonde girls—veelas, obviously. I take a deep breath and sit down next to him.

"Hi," I greet and to Lee's credit, I do admit that he immediately turns from Fleur's cousins.

"Hi," he answers with a genuine smile on his lips. Guilt fills me to the brim.

"I'm so sorry, Lee," I tell him abruptly and his smile thankfully doesn't disappear.

"Katie, it's fine—really. I wish you would stop beating yourself up about this. It's better for both of us this way. You're more comfortable as friends and I'm _much_ more comfortable when you're comfortable."

"Thank you," I say and he pulls me into a quick hug.

"Just take care of yourself, please. I don't think I could stand it if you let Wood mess with your head again." Why does everyone blame Oliver's and my relationship on him? It's just as much my fault…

The veela girls throw me dirty looks as he continues to ignore them. I roll my eyes and focus my attention back to the front where, to my surprise, I find Bill and Charlie already standing serenely, Bill's scars looking nothing more than faint memories compared to the beauty of the marquee. I slowly turn in unison with the rest of the audience and hear myself gasp at Fleur, her immense exquisiteness radiating throughout the room.

I faintly hear Fred wolf whistle from the front and I roll my eyes. How does his family put up with him? As music begins to surround the tent Ginny and Fleur's younger sister Gabrielle, lead Fleur and her father to the front.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," a small gray-haired wizard draws our attention. "We are gathered here today to celebrate the union of two faithful souls…"

My mind slowly begins to wander from the vows as I take in the bridal party. Gabrielle, looking around confusedly; Ginny, constantly shifting her weight form foot to foot in a gesture that I immediately recognize as 'uncomfortable-heels-syndrome'; Bill and Fleur, looking like a pair of angels that have decided to grace us with their presence; and Charlie, looking unabashedly around the room.

"Do you, William Arthur, take Fleur Isabelle to be your lawfully wedded wife…?"

Both of the mothers are crying as he gives his "I do."

"And do you, Fleur Isabelle, take William Arthur…?"

"I do."

"Then I declare you bonded for life. You may now kiss the bride." He casts his wand over the kissing couple and a shower of silver stars fall around them. Okay, that's cool.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," the residing minister cries above the noise. "If you would all please stand up."

Confused, I slowly stand up, Lee grabbing my elbow with a smirk as I almost trip over my heels and fall back down. The wizard waves his wand once more. I watch, mouth agape, as the chairs re-situate themselves around white tables and the walls of the marquee disappear, allowing in the glorious sunlight. You'd think I'd be used to magic by now…

"You just going to stand there?" Lee asks with a laugh and I quickly snap to attention, realizing that everyone's begun to find tables for themselves now.

"Shut up," I mumble and we sit down at a vacant table where we are quickly joined by Angelina and Alicia.

"Where are—?" Lee starts, inquiring about the twins.

"Who knows," Alicia sighs. "They keep getting pulled over by family. Quite popular they are."

"Well, I'm going to go congratulate Bill," Lee says, standing up. "Anyone want to go with me?"

"Already did it," Angelina says and Alicia nods.

"I don't know him," I add.

"Be right back, then," Lee sighs.

"That was lovely, wasn't it?" Alicia says, glancing off into the crowd.

"Yeah, it was," I agree. "You wonder if Leanne's is going to be anything like this?"

"Probably not," Angelina answers from next to me. "Most wizards have muggle-ish weddings. But since this is the joining of two pureblood families, they went a little overboard. It doesn't happen everyday, you know."

I nod in understanding as the band begins to play; Bill and Fleur take the dance floor. Unable to tear my eyes away, I nearly miss Fred and George coming to grab Angelina and Alicia away. Alicia gives me a small wave as they head off. I watch them for a few minutes, laughing at Fred's brash dancing style.

"Is my sister dancing with Lee?" I hear a voice say from behind me and I turn to see Ron hand-in-hand with Hermione Granger. She's in the middle of a conversation with our old Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, Remus Lupin, and doesn't seem to hear the question. You wonder if they realize they're holding hands? They're looking off in totally different directions. It really doesn't seem like they do.

I'm not totally sure whether he is looking for an answer to his question, but I turn around to check out the accusation anyway. Sure enough, Ginny and Lee are dancing on the other end of the floor. They wouldn't make a bad couple…if she weren't in love with Harry.

"Yeah, she is," I answer, turning to face him. He looks down at me briefly.

"Katie!" he exclaims in surprise and I'm actually stunned he remembers me. "Are they…?" he asks, gesturing towards his sister.

"No."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive." Not even asking how I know, he glares at Lee and I have a feeling that no matter what I say in his defense, Ron's not going to like Lee too much right about now.

"Ron, mum wants to know where the—" Charlie says coming over, but stopping short at the sight of his brother holding hands with a girl. Looking down at his own hand, Ron jumps and yanks it out of Hermione's. Hm…he really hadn't realized. At the feel of Ron jerking his hand away, Hermione looks down but seeing nothing amiss turns back to her conversation.

"You know what?" Charlie says with a laugh. "Nevermind." Ron quickly sprints away, dragging a reluctant Hermione behind him. Looking a bit confused, Charlie starts to walk away.

"A don't even get a hello?" I ask and he turns around, noticing me for the first time.

"Why, hello," he greets. "Have you been sitting there the whole time?"

"Yeah; I was talking to your brother before you showed up."

"What about?"

"That," I say, pointing to Ginny and Lee, hoping desperately that he's not as overprotective as Ron. Poor girl; six older brothers to keep the guys away.

He looks at the couple momentarily and I can tell that he doesn't really know what to do. He was already out of the house before Ginny started dating.

"Are they—?"

"No, they are not dating," I interrupt with a smirk on my face.

"Well then are _they_ dating?" he asks, pointing to Ron and Hermione.

"I don't know," I answer honestly. "Fred and George haven't said anything about it."

"I guess I'll ask him about it later," Charlie says, looking at me with a smile. "So, you wanna dance?"

"Sure," I say and join him on the dance floor just as a slow tune comes on.

"Wow, I have good timing," he says with a laugh and pulls me to him as we sway to the music. We dance a few songs together before Fred notices and removes me unceremoniously from his arms. I'm soon passed around, much like at all of the parties I attended at Hogwarts, from Fred to George to Lee and back again.

Soon, however, the swarm of veela cousin around each off them becomes too great for me to feel safe. Lee, now officially unattached, is the first to succumb to their temptations and the twins, Lord help them, probably wouldn't have been far behind if Angelina and Alicia would have allowed it.

Really though, veelas should be banned from all public forums. They just make guys act stupid. But then again, so do low-cut tops.

The music plays through the afternoon until I began to lose all track of time. The cake was cut and Bill and Fleur leave for their honeymoon not long after, obviously not wanting to wait until the guests decide to leave. When Charlie and Hagrid began singing "Odo the Hero" at the top of their voices, some families begin to clear off but many still remain. The party continues.

Working my way through the dance floor, I join Ginny who's sitting at a table alone rubbing her feet.

"Sore?" I ask and she nods her head vigorously.

"Never again am I dancing in heels." Even in the setting sun, I can tell that her feet aren't the only thing bothering her.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine," she says, rolling her eyes at herself. "Just one dance that I really wanted but didn't get. And speaking of dances, how many of my brothers have _you_ danced with today?"

"Um…three," I answer and she smirks.

"So you and Charlie, huh?" she says with a suggestive wink.

"No, Ginny. I—uh, no. It was just a dance."

"Are you sure? You two look great together."

"Ginny," I warn.

"Fine. Don't know why you put up with my brothers though. They're idiots—all of them," she says nodding curtly at Fred, George, and Charlie who are standing on a table with their arms around each other singing "A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love."

"Yes, but they _are_ entertaining."

"You want to know the sad part?" she continues. "They're totally not drunk. Mum'd kill them if they even touched a Firewhiskey." I smirk and am about to respond when a blinding silver light fills the now darkened sky. The guests all focus their attention on it as the band stops playing.

As dancers freeze mid-step, a now recognizable lynx lands in the middle of them. As it opens its mouth, the warning fills the room:

"The Ministry has fallen. Scrimgeour is dead. They are coming."

--

_Next time on _Love and War_: The remaining guests are questioned._

**Review, please! I'd love to know your thoughts thus far. Theories, anyone? Updates should start coming faster after this week too, but no promises.**


	7. Misunderstanding

_**A/N: Officially on my summer break now :) Just thought you all should know. **_

_--_

_Misunderstandings:_

Pandemonium instantly sets in as Ginny and I exchange one last worried glance. Guests begin to Disapparate amidst screams as the protections surrounding the Burrow are broken.

"Let's get out of here, Ginny," I call over the noise, holding out my arm for her to take. She's not even sixteen yet so there's no way for her to get out of here without help.

"I can't leave my family," she calls back. Just like her brothers she is—stubborn.

Shouts ring out as cloaked figures begin to appear amid the guests. Remus Lupin and his wife Tonks suddenly shout through the crowd loud enough for all to hear, "_Protego_!" The Ministry's spells are deflected.

I just need to keep my head…stay calm. I draw my wand and watch as my own spells join the volley, but I know that the shielding charm isn't going to hold them off for long.

I scan the area quickly, looking for more familiar faces and see Fred frantically arguing with Angelina, George standing at his side. Throwing spells over my shoulder at some of the hooded men, I run towards my friends.

"Angelina, don't argue," I hear him yell. "You and Alicia get out of here—now!" Angelina rolls her eyes, but obeys nonetheless. She grabs Alicia's arm and they disappear.

"Fred, what's going on?" I cry and he turns with his wand drawn.

"Katie? What are you still doing—?" He looks over at Ginny. "Take Ginny and go—your place, not mine."

"I'm not leaving!" I argue, but my cry is rather unnecessary as the mixture of Death Eaters and Ministry workers finally break through the shield. Fred and I exchange a quick glance before turning back to the coming onslaught. Ginny edges up next to us and I stand with her and her two brothers, waiting to see what's going to happen.

Outnumbered, we recognize defeat.

Or at least the Lupins do and I'm taking their lead here. Professor Lupin looks at all remaining and slowly sheaths his wand. We do the same.

"Why, thank you, Remus," a tall imposing man that I do not recognize says, coming forth into the barrage of bodies and standing in front of all of us guests. We've been backed into a circle in the center of the marquee and looking around I notice that there's only about thirty people present. I catch sight of a few other familiar faces and am perversely glad to see Lee standing off to the side also. He's okay. He's here, sure, but he's okay. Well, aside from a deep gash on the side of his head. "We're not looking for trouble here," the man says, smiling slightly.

"Then why, Yaxley, have you chosen to abruptly end my son's wedding?" I turn to find Arthur Weasley, red with anger, addressing the man.

"A mere coincidence, I assure you, Arthur. If we had known that festivities were in order, we would have arrived much sooner. I never turn down an opportunity for free food. But, you see, we're acting on an anonymous tip that you have a fugitive hiding in this fine dwelling of yours. The new Minister insisted that I come to check it out immediately."

"The _new_Minister?" Mr. Weasley asks.

"Why, Pius Thicknesse, of course," Yaxley responds with a smile. Eyes still on Mr. Weasley, Yaxley snaps his fingers in order to summon one of his men. "Percy, come here, please."

With a jolt to my stomach, I spot the only man among their number that's holding a piece of parchment rather than a wand. I feel Fred and Ginny stiffen on either side of me and know without looking that George is doing the same.

"Ah, here you are Percy," Yaxley exclaims, clapping Percy Weasley on the shoulder as he arrives next to him. "Great son you have here, Arthur. Thicknesse's personal assistant now. You must be so proud. The Minister himself demanded that he show up for this little affair. I guess he felt that a family reunion was in order." Mr. Weasley just scowls at the man, but doesn't make eye contact with his son. "Now Percy," Yaxley continues amicably, "can you please tell me whether all of your siblings are accounted for?"

Percy swallows dramatically before staring at each of the guests in turn. He finally meets eyes with Yaxley and the look on the Death Eater's face clearly says that Percy had better not lie to him.

"Two are missing, sir," Percy finally answers. "My brothers William and Ronald."

Mr. Weasley immediately begins accounting for his missing sons, but Yaxley holds up a hand to stop him. "Thank you, Percy." Percy nods his head worriedly and sinks back into the crowd. "You," Yaxley finally cries, pointing directly at Ginny, the first red-head in sight. "Do you live here?"

"Yes," Ginny replies without hesitation, her voice steady.

"Yes, sir," Yaxley corrects. "Where is William?"

Ginny gives him a small smile before answering. "On his honeymoon," she says stiffly.

"You _will_ address me as Sir!"

"On his honeymoon, sir," she says even more stiffly.

Yaxley turns to a group of his men off to the side. "You five," he commands. "Check that story." They Disapparate and he continues around the circle, passing over Fred and stopping instead at George.

"Where's Ronald?" he asks, using none of the kindness that he'd faked for Ginny's question. He obviously has seen that George is a member of the Order—the ear is kind of a dead giveaway.

"In the attic, Sir," George answers stridently, as if addressing a drill sergeant. I wince.

"It is not necessary to speak that loudly," Yaxley warns.

"Sorry, Sir," he continues at the same volume. "But my bum ear requires me to speak like this." I can't help but stifle a laugh and I'm not the only one.

Ignoring George, Yaxley turns instead to Fred, figuring that the same face will provide the same answers. "Why is your brother in the attic?" he asks scornfully.

"It's a long story, Sir," Fred answers.

"Shorten it, Mr. Weasley," Yaxley answers through clenched teeth

"Sir, he's got spattergroit, Sir."

Several of the Ministry workers recoil at that news and even though I know it's not true since I spoke to Ron only a few hours ago, I have to admit that Fred tells a convincing tale.

"You, you, you, and you," Yaxley says, pointing out four of his men at random. "Take Molly and Arthur into the house to show you their son. If they're lying, then you know what to do."

I watch as the four men lead the Weasleys across the lawn. Charlie, Fred, George, Ginny, and even Percy each watch their parents' retreating forms. So what are they _really_ going to find in the attic?

"The rest of you," he calls to us, "will be submitted to questioning." The men slowly move through our ranks, dividing us into three distinct groups: one of people who don't seem to comprehend a bit of what's going on (Fleur's French cousins among others) and two other groups filled with people who may actually know something.

I'm led to the house and the eight of us in my group are sat down in the living room to wait: Fred, George, Ginny, Charlie, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Lee, and myself. The Ministry workers leave the building until only Percy remains. He clears his throats to get our attention.

"You will each be called forth for questioning. If you refuse, you will be held in contempt with the Ministry of Magic and will be forced to face the consequences. Are there any questions?"

"I have a question, Perce," Fred says. He's pressing his luck in my opinion. "What happens if you're held in contempt to your family?"

"Yeah," George agrees. "Have you seen my new ear? Or lack of one, I should say. Lovely, isn't it?"

Ignoring both of them, Percy leaves through the front door, his face flaming. Once he's gone, we wait.

And wait.

And wait.

The men are obviously taking their time with the other groups first, which is quite fine with me except for the fact that I really just want to go home. And it's cold. Seriously. I think that that Yaxley man turned the air down just to make us uncomfortable.

Small discussions about pointless things break out around the room and Ginny and I begin conversing about the Harpies chances on winning the cup this year.

As the second hour passes, I'm no longer able to ignore the discomfort I'm in and although I can't do anything about it, complaining always seems to work.

"Fred," I whisper, leaning over Ginny so that he can hear me.

"What?" he whispers back. Our voices haven't ever risen above the minimal volume; not even Fred and George's.

"I'm cold," I inform him. It's not my fault either. He's the one that told me a dress was necessary for a wedding.

"Me too," Ginny agrees and I hear Tonks laugh form the corner where her and Professor Lupin are sitting on the floor. She knows how hard it is to be a girl.

"What do you expect me to do?" He asks.

"I don't know! It's your house. Can't you control the temperature?"

"Not without magic," Charlie answers from the other side of the room. "And I don't think it's worth any of our lives to use magic just to warm the room up." Although we still have our wands, it seems to be an unspoken agreement that if we don't use any form of magic, they won't kill us.

"Okay, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm cold," I mumble. Fred groans and looks towards the kitchen. He slowly gets up and begins creeping past the stairs.

"What are you doing, Fred?" Ginny asks worriedly.

"Are you cold or not?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want you to risk your life to bring me a jumper."

Fred ignores her and enters the kitchen—their laundry room is on the other side so I assume that's where he's heading.

"George," I hear the raspy voice of Professor Lupin say from across the room. "When they call us for questioning, they're going to take us in pairs. You'll be with Fred. Do you think that you can please try to keep him calm? The last thing we need right now is for him to piss off a load of Death Eaters."

"I'll try," George replies quietly. "But he's already mad, mate. He keeps saying that they're raiding our shop as we speak. Is that true?" The answer is in Professor Lupin's silence.

Fred comes running back into the room and takes his seat just as the front door opens. A group of about ten men enter, Yaxley in the lead.

"We will be with you shortly," he says politely and I can't tell whether he's just a good actor or if he really believes that he's being kind to us. The men head up the stairs.

"They better not be going into my room," Ginny groans.

"Here," Fred says once they're gone, thrusting sweaters into both Ginny's and my hands. I pull the one I'm given over my head and when I look down I notice a giant _F_ printed across my chest.

"I swear I didn't do that on purpose," Fred says with a laugh. I roll my eyes, but snuggle into its warmth nonetheless.

"They're not going to know quite what to think of you, Miss Bell," Professor Lupin says from across the room and I'm surprised he even remembers me. I wasn't an awesome Defense Against the Darks Arts student to tell you the truth. Well, at least not until Harry started teaching us my sixth year.

"What do you mean?" I ask, resisting the urge to call him Professor since I'm not sure he'd appreciate it considering he's been out of his teaching post for almost four years.

"I mean that everyone left in this room has some connection to the Order except for you. They would have expected you to Disapparate with the rest of them."

"It's true," Charlie says. "They're going to think that you're a part of the Order. Everyone else that was physically able Apparated out."

"We could always say that she's dating Fred," George jokes.

"Or the truth," I cut in. "I didn't want to leave Ginny. Why does it even matter anyway? Lee's not in the Order either!"

They all silently turn to stare at Lee and he gives me a sheepish smile. Figures.

"I want to join," I say. If Lee can do it, then so can I.

"I don't think that now's the right time," Tonks says from her spot on the floor. "Plus, we're not exactly taking new members."

"The Order's practically disbanded as it is," Lupin mutters. "This questioning—it's just a formality. They know we're in the Order; they just don't care anymore. We're powerless against them and they know it. Over half of our members are either arrested or in hiding. There's nothing we can do anymore."

"Then why bother with the questioning?" I ask.

"It's about Harry," he answers.

"Harry? Harry Potter?" I ask, shocked. "Does that mean that all of the rumors are true?"

"It means that they think they're true," Ginny answers.

We sit in silence for a few minutes until a squat wizard appears at the foot of the stairs and clears his throat. Without saying a word, he points at the two Lupins and they slowly head up the stairs hand in hand. Tonks gives us a small wave as she disappears from sight.

I turn around and hit Fred on the shoulder. Hard.

"Ow! What the hell was that for?"

I ignore him and turn to Lee. "And you too," I whisper as loud as I can. "When the hell were you planning to tell me? We were dating for God's sake!"

"_Were_ being the operative word there," Lee replies. "And you broke up with me so I really don't feel the need to tell you anything." Even though I know he's joking, the rejection stings.

"And while we're getting our feelings out here," Fred cuts in, "never disobey a direct order from me again. I told you to get out of here."

"I can take care of myself, Fred Weasley."

"You obviously have no self-preservation instincts, then," he mutters. "I swear! You can't follow instructions to save your life. Quite literally."

"You should have known I wouldn't leave you here," I say, raising my voice dangerously. "I can't believe that Angelina did."

"The only reason Angelina went was to get Alicia out of here," George says quietly. "And she's probably having another panic attack by now. I'm going to be the death of that girl…"

"And I'm apparently going to be the death of _this_ girl," Fred says, staring at me. I open my mouth to retort, but Ginny beats me to it.

"Can you two please stop arguing?" she groans. "You're worse than Ron and Hermione." I hold back a grin and shut my mouth.

"You two," I hear a voice say from the steps and I look up to see the pudgy man pointing at Fred and George. They get up slowly and make their way upstairs.

"So, where's everybody going?" I ask eventually. "Like when they're done. They aren't coming back down obviously."

"There's probably an Apparation point set up somewhere upstairs," Charlie answers.

"Or they're killing us," Lee adds.

"Oh, that's encouraging," Ginny says sarcastically and we revert back to silence.

Even with the jumpers, the temperature continues to get colder and Ginny and I slowly start edging towards each other to stay warm. After about a half an hour, I hear raised voices from up the stairs.

We all look towards the ceiling warily.

"They're going to get murdered," Ginny sighs. "Can he not just keep his fat mouth shut for one hour?"

Come on, Fred! Shut the fuck up—for me.

They stay up there much longer than Tonks and Lupin, but thankfully I never hear another shout. Maybe he was able to get himself under control after all.

The man finally returns. "The two girls," he says stiffly and Ginny and I slowly get up. I give Lee and Charlie one last smile, before traversing upstairs. And, ironically enough, the interviews are being held in Fred and George's room.

We each take a seat across from a table where eight of the ten men sit. The other two are guarding the door.

"Please state your name for the panel," an elderly man asks from one side of the table. I watch as two other begin scribbling furiously on pieces of parchment.

"Ginevra Weasley."

"Katherine Bell."

"Ah, well thank you for being here," the Death Eater Yaxley says from the center of the table. "We're just going to ask you a few simple questions and you will be free to go on your way. So do I have your word that both of you will tell the truth, or do I need to get out my Veritaserum?"

We both agree rather unenthusiastically, but that seems to be enough for him. Without knowing him for more than a few hours, I can already tell that he's one of those guys that don't think women are capable of deceit.

"Miss Weasley, you live here, yes?" Ginny nods slowly. "Then could you please inform us of the guests that have been staying at your house these past few days?"

Ginny looks taken by surprise. "You mean name them?_ All _of them?" Yaxley looks at her as if she's a brainless child. "There's just a lot of names," Ginny defends herself, but then begins ticking them off on her fingers. "Mum, Dad, Bill, Charlie, Fred and George when they weren't at their own flat, Ron, Fleur, Mr. and Mrs. Delacour, Gabrielle, me…um, I think that that's it."

"Twelve people?" he confirms.

"If that's how many people I named then yes."

"When is the last time that you saw Mr. Harry Potter?"

"We broke up at the end of the last school year. I haven't seen him since," she says confidently.

"What about you, Miss Bell?" he asks, turning his attention instead to me.

"I haven't seen him since I graduated in June," I answer truthfully.

"And what was your relationship with him?"

"We were on the Gryffindor Quidditch team together. He was captain."

The questions about Harry keep coming, most directed towards Ginny who's beginning to get stressed. Finally, realizing that they're going to get no further information out of her, they turn back to me.

"Miss Bell, the number of people present upon our arrival suggests that you were pre-warned we were coming. Why did you not Disapparate with the rest of them?"

"Um, I don't know," I answer. "I just didn't want to leave Ginny here alone."

"Hm," Yaxley mutters doubtfully. "Are you currently involved romantically with one of the Weasleys?"

"Excuse me?" I ask defensively, choosing to forget about the fact that he could kill me right now and nothing would be done about it.

"It's a simple question."

"No—I'm not," I answer firmly, trying to leave no doubt that I'm telling the truth. He looks down at the _F_ on my chest and a smirk rises to his face.

"You two are free to go," he says and Ginny and I are immediately escorted from the room and up a few floors to where we're apparently supposed to Apparate out.

"I live here," Ginny complains to the pudgy man leading us. "Where am I supposed to go?" Without a word, he points his finger up and leaves us alone.

"They didn't honestly stick my whole family in Ron's room, did they?" Ginny asks, looking warily at the ceiling above her head.

"Ginny, why did they ask me that?" I interrupt her ranting.

"Ask you what?" she replies innocently, but I can tell she know exactly what I'm talking about.

"Ginny…" I warn.

"It's what they do, Katie. They judge relationships and use them to get information. Why do you think they kept asking me about Harry even though I wasn't giving them any answers? It's because I used to date him."

"They think I'm with Fred," I groan.

"He's very protective of you, Katie. My guess is that one of those men asked Fred what you were doing here—they probably said something about you that pissed him off."

We stand in silence for a few seconds, before I wrap Ginny in a hug and Disapparate home.

**--**

**I know what you're thinking: still no Oliver. Well, sorry, but he's back in the next chapter, I swear. And this chapter is pretty important...**

_Next time on _Love and War_: Getting ready for Leanne's wedding rehearsal, which means more Oliver! And Charlie…_

**Review, please!**


	8. Rehearsal, Part I

_--_

_Rehearsal, Part I:_

It didn't take long for the changes in our world to become obvious. No time at all, in fact. It turns out that Fred had been right about his suspicions of Death Eater searching the twins' shop and when we returned to normal life, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was in desperate need of some help.

I took off of work for a few days to help the twins get their shop back in order, but if I'm being completely honest with myself that's not the only reason. When Thicknesse took over, it wasn't only the Ministry that was affected. That fact was screamed loud and clear the very next day when _The Daily Prophet _began telling the world that Harry Potter was the reason Albus Dumbledore was dead. And now I'm caught in the middle.

I went back to _The Prophet_ with a lot of trepidation. The main reason I returned was only because Fred said that any information I could give him would help the Order immensely. I'm not sure if he was lying to get me to go back or serious, but it did make a little sense.

The most noticeable difference for me was that all of the department heads had been replaced. Except for Malcolm. I mean, come on—that is just my luck. I guess they just didn't see the need to replace the Quidditch editor. That didn't stop them from assigning two "Ministry Approved" workers to shadow poor Malcolm, however. The man's a nervous wreck. Not to mention the fact that I can't even get a cup of water without them staring at me like I'm about to assassinate the Minister of Magic.

And even though all of these changes are going on around us, I don't think Leanne's noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Now that her wedding's drawing nearer, she's having just as many panic attacks as Alicia and _I'm_ the one spending all of my extra time trying to calm her down. I'm over at her place at least twice a week—normally more.

I've already gotten Angelina to promise to kill me if I ever get this obsessive over my own wedding.

Of course, to get married there actually has to be a guy involved and I happen to be going through a romantic dry spell lately. Okay, well it's more like a drought…

Really though! All joking aside, the last guy I seriously dated (if you don't count Lee) was Oliver. And we broke up when I was sixteen. I'm turning nineteen next month, so that means I haven't had a real boyfriend in almost three years!

Damn…has it really been that long?

The day before Leanne's rehearsal dinner, we were supposed to head down to the muggle reception hall that she'd rented and get everything set up, but then Cullen decided to change the plans. Just before I was about leave, an owl arrived for me.

_Katie,_

_I don't want Leanne to be any more stressed out than she has to be. I've given her a Calming Draft and we're going to take the day to ourselves. A few friends of mine are going to prepare the reception hall. I didn't tell Leanne that—she'd freak if she learned a bunch of guys were decorating for her. You're welcome to join them if you wish, although your dear friend Oliver _is_ going to be present. Do with that information what you will._

_Cullen._

_P.S. I don't know if Leanne's told you, but thanks so much for keeping her sane these past few weeks. Too much is changing for her to lose her head now._

Why can't all guys be like Cullen? Seriously! He's perfect; Leanne's lucky.

I read the letter through once more and begin debating whether to go or not. I mean, I've already taken the day off of work…and there really is nothing else to do.

And do I really trust Oliver with decorations? Everything would be scarlet and gold…

Okay, that settles it. I'm going.

But not alone.

--

Alicia and I arrive at the muggle reception hall (by bus) just in time to witness who I think I recognize as one of Puddlemere United's Chasers falling from a ladder onto the floor. The banner that he was trying to hang followed him down. Take the magic away and suddenly guys don't know how to do anything. I've had eight years with Fred and George to teach me that.

"Bloody hell," Alicia mutters, looking around at what needs the most help and moves over to join Oliver's roommate Ben in setting the tables properly.

I casually scan the room, taking in the chaos. It's pretty funny, actually. I chuckle to myself as I notice that almost all of Puddlemere's Quidditch team is present (minus the chick because apparently Oliver doesn't have the brains to invite a girl when it comes to decorating). Speaking of Oliver, I find him in the far corner fo the room, directing a group of muggle workers carrying chairs. I take a deep breath and am just about to approach him when the door I'm standing in front of opens suddenly.

Before I can move, it hits me in the back forcefully. I scream and try to regain my balance (a hopeless cause, I know) but fall to the floor nonetheless. And to add insult to injury, whoever was coming through the door trips over my fallen form and as if in slow motion, I see a giant bucket of water that he had apparently been carrying empty its contents onto the both of us.

I lay there with my mouth gape, trying to ignore the silence around me. Finally, when the shock of the water dissipates a bit, I turn to the person on the floor next to me.

"Katie," he greets with an apologetic grin, still lying flat on his back.

"Charlie," I respond, staring at the ceiling and praying to God that I'm not wearing a white shirt. "That _was_ water, right? I'm not about to drop dead or anything?"

"Oh no, it's safe. I was supposed to be mopping the floor."

"Where's the mop?"

"Couldn't find one."

"Oh, well, good luck with that."

He picks himself up as the people who had turned to watch go back to their posts. "Up," he commands and holds out his hand for me to take. I take it and pull myself up. As the excess water falls from my clothes, we both can't help but laugh. I start to take out my wand to dry myself, but Charlie quickly grabs my wrist.

"Muggles," he mutters, throwing glances over at the workers placing chairs around the tables. I know Leanne has muggle relatives, but was a muggle reception hall really necessary? It's so much extra work!

"Charlie," I groan. "I am now cold, wet, and incredibly agitated and I do not wish to stay this way."

"Um…I think I saw a bathroom down the hall," he suggests, pulling his wet T-shirt away from his skin.

"Now you're thinking," I praise and follow him through the door. I also follow him into the men's bathroom and after checking that we are alone, Charlie locks the door behind us. We immediately take out our wands to dry ourselves.

"How do muggles live without these things?" he asks, looking at his wand with reverence. I roll my eyes and he pushes me lightly on the shoulder. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"_I_ am the Maid of Honor," I say.

"Two weddings in a month," Charlie mutters more to himself than to me. "And Cullen's three years younger than me. Now _that's_ an insult!"

"Yeah, weddings aren't my cup of tea, either."

"Well," he says after a while. "We should probably be getting back…" We both look at the door, but neither of us makes a move to leave. "So, did everything go all right for you after Bill's wedding?"

"Yeah," I assure him. "I mean, Fred and George's place was trashed. Not to mention the fact that they and Lee are now plotting bloody murder, but we're fine. Oh yeah, I almost forgot! Those people think I'm with Fred."

"Yeah, Ginny told me that…"

"So, you're still living in Romania, right?" I inquire.

"For now," he mutters, running his hand through his hair. "But I've been thinking about coming back for a year or so—try to keep my family out of trouble."

"By family do you mean—?"

"Fred and George? Yeah. They're the only ones stupid enough to try anything openly."

"I try to contain them, but—" I'm cut off by the sound off someone trying to open the door. It doesn't budge so they knock.

"Shit," Charlie mutters, hopping off of the counter and looking at me desperately. I just shrug.

"Uh, who is it?" Charlie yells through the door and I can't help but laugh.

"Charlie?" I hear the voice of Oliver call. "Why the bloody hell are you locked in a bathroom?"

"Oh, sorry, mate," Charlie says and opens the door for Oliver.

"What were you doing in here?" Oliver asks with a laugh, but falls silent at the sight of me. "Oh," he says knowledgeably.

"It's nothing like that," I say calmly.

"Did you not see me dump a bucket of water on the both of us?" Charlie laughs and Oliver shakes his head. "Well then, be warned. Us two together seems to present problems."

"Yeah, those Death Eaters at Bill and Fleur's wedding—totally our fault," I joke.

Oliver looks between us with confusion in his eyes and I'm about to explain the joke when the door to the bathroom opens once again. Ben walks in, takes sight of the three of us, and walks out again.

"Okay, so this is now getting awkward," I mutter when the door closes behind Ben. "I'll see you two around."

I return to the reception hall and Alicia, who seems to have taken charge, gives me a handful of silverware and tells me to set tables. I guess she figures there's no way I can trip doing that.

Several hours later the six members of the Puddlemere Quidditch team, Charlie, Alicia, and I all stand back and admire our handiwork. Even I have to admit that the place looks good.

"Okay, well I'm out," Alicia says breaking the silence.

"Wait," Oliver stops her. "I was going to take everyone out for lunch if you want to stay."

"Thanks for the offer, but I'm meeting George." She gives him a quick hug before heading out the door and leaving me the sole girl present. Dream come true, right? Yeah, not really.

"You know, I actually have somewhere I have to be," I start, looking around desperately for an excuse to leave.

"No you don't," Charlie mutters in my ear.

"Well, I'm sure I could _find_ somewhere to be," I retort.

"Please stay. I only know Oliver and Ben and they're going to be talking about Quidditch…"

"Well then come with me. I don't want to stay! And you're a guy, even if you're not on the team you can bloody well talk about Quidditch and they'll take you seriously. Girls don't have that privilege."

"I can't not go. I'm staying with Oliver until I go back to Romania. I owe him." I roll my eyes in defeat.

"Nevermind," I announce and Charlie breaks out in a grin. Oliver just shrugs.

--

We arrive at some sort of pub down the street and all eight of us sit down at a table in the middle. All of the guys order a beer, but I'm fully set on remaining sober.

Of course, Charlie turns out to have been correct in his assumption that Quidditch would be the main topic of discussion and I soon have enough information on Puddlemere's playbook to sale it to another team. Not that I would, but it's good to have blackmail.

"So, are you coming to the rehearsal tomorrow?" I ask Charlie.

"Nah. But Ben and I are going to show up for the dinner."

"Nice," I say.

"Yeah, I'm always up for free food."

"Bachelor party afterwards?" I ask knowingly.

"Hell yeah."

"Leanne's was supposed to be tonight, but she cancelled."

"She cancelled her own party?"

"Well, since I'm in charge, she told me we could still have it, but she wouldn't be coming."

"Rather pointless without the bride…"

"That's what I said."

"Hey, Katie, can I ask you a question?" I nod. "What's going on between you and Oliver?" Startled by the inquiry, I almost choke on my drink.

"What makes you think something's going on?" I question.

"Well, he's been giving me death glares all night long." I look Oliver's way and sure enough, he's staring back. Our eyes meet briefly, but he quickly turns away.

"We're just old friends," I lie. As the words leave my mouth, the memory of that one shared kiss comes to the forefront of my mind. I try to push it back.

"If I asked him the same question, would I get the same answer?"

"I don't try to fathom the depths of Oliver Wood's mind, so I honestly couldn't tell you."

"I think he likes you," Charlie says simply.

"He has a girlfriend," I retort, probably much harsher than was really necessary. Charlie quickly changes the subject and I'm able to excuse myself a few minutes later.

--

**A/N: This was originally supposed to be a much longer chapter with the actual rehearsal dinner attached, but it was a little too long to call it one chapter comfortably. But I won't make you wait long for the other half; I promise.**

_Next Time on Love and War: We finally meet Oliver's girlfriend._

**Review, please!**


	9. Rehearsal, Part II

--

_Rehearsal, Part II:_

Fifteen minutes after I am supposed to have arrived at the wedding rehearsal, I'm at a loss as to what to wear. I'm running around my room frantically, in only underwear and high heels, fully aware that I have nothing nice enough for the occasion. Why wasn't I smart enough to plan this outfit in advance?

"Damn weddings!" I cry and my scream brings a worried Fred into the room; I hastily try to cover myself with a blanket off of my bed. "Have you ever heard of knocking?"

He quickly averts his eyes and exits the room. "It's for you, Ange," I hear him call. Sure enough, a few seconds later Angelina enters my room, steps into my closet, grabs a black dress that I must have missed earlier, and holds it out for me with a smirk.

"Thanks," I say sheepishly and quickly slip it over my head. I run into the living room and grab my purse on my way out. I barely go anywhere without it anymore—Angelina has officially succeeded in brainwashing me.

"Isn't that dress a little low-cut?" Fred asks as I head out the door, not caring in the slightest. I'm sure Fred would prefer me going in this dress rather than going in my underwear.

I take a chance and Apparate into an alley next to the church and am lucky that no muggles are nearby. What? I didn't have time to catch a bus.

Leanne really should have reconsidered having her wedding in muggle facilities when she knew I was going to be the Maid of Honor.

I run into the church and come skidding to a halt next to Leanne, Cullen, and Oliver. Of course, skidding is never the most graceful action in the world but I give the term a whole new meaning as my heels nearly cause me to fall. Oliver reaches out a hand to steady me.

I would probably think more of it if keeping me on my feet didn't come second nature to most people who know me.

"Thanks," I mutter to him. "And sorry I'm late," I add to Leanne.

"Couldn't find anything to wear?" she asks knowingly.

"Something like that."

"I swear, Katie. If Angelina, Alicia, and I didn't force you to go shopping, you'd be naked right now."

"Sadly, that's probably true. Hey Cullen," I add, reaching over to hug him.

"Hey. I heard Alicia took over the decorating. Thank her for me, will you?"

"Sure will. So where is everyone?" I ask, glancing around the empty foyer to the church.

"Actually, people probably won't start getting here until around five thirty," she says guiltily.

"You told me the wrong time?" I cry. "Leanne, that's horrible! Do you really not trust me to be puntual?"

"Well, I was right, wasn't I?" she asks with a laugh.

"So not the point! Your parents aren't even here yet!"

"Actually, they are," Cullen interrupts, pointing towards the sanctuary. I look in to see Leanne's family, meshed with who I am guessing is Cullen's family, all talking to an elderly pastor.

"Well, it's still rude," I say. "So, what are we supposed to be doing here anyways?"

"It's a wedding rehearsal," Oliver says as if I should know what that means.

"I know that," I say rather harshly, my temper flaring for no legitimate reason at all. "But I've never been to one before."

"They're just going to tell us where to stand and stuff," Leanne takes pity on me and answers. "We'll be out of here in no time and then we can head to the reception hall across the street for the dinner." Okay, so I'm definitely not seeing the point of a rehearsal…

"Hey, Leanne," a voice says from the door to that sanctuary and I turn to see Leanne's fifteen-year-old brother, Aaron, trying to get her attention.

"Yeah?"

"They want to see you and Cullen.'

"Okay. Oliver, Katie, can you two keep everyone out here until we're done in there? Thanks!" She and Cullen enter hand in hand, leaving Oliver and me alone.

"So, uh, thanks for helping with the reception hall yesterday," Oliver says after a while, never once making eye contact.

"I didn't really do much except get water poured on me," I respond. We resume our silence.

Figuring it's best to remain silent rather than embarrass myself, I find a chair in the corner of the room and sit down.

By a quarter 'til six, all members of the bridal party are accounted far and I am still sitting sullenly in my corner. I'd forgotten how much I hate Leanne's friends and I was naïve enough to think that Hogwarts was the last time I'd ever have to see them again.

I sit staring into space when I suddenly hear the door to the church open once more. Wondering who was still unaccounted for, I turn to look at the new arrival. A girl about my age walks in and I'm positive that I've never seen her before. She definitely has one of those faces that you would remember—perfect porcelain skin set off by curly black hair and deep blue eyes. I assume that she's not friends with Leanne. Maybe she's a cousin or something…

I watch as she looks around the room and, seeming to find who she's looking for, heads over. My heart stops, however, when I realize where she's heading. No possible way. But sure enough, she puts her arms around Oliver's waist from behind and he turns around with a smile, placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

I quickly avert my eyes. Please tell me that that didn't really happen. I went to school with Oliver for four years and never once did I have to see him kiss another girl—unless you count Leanne that one time, but I really don't.

I guess I just didn't realize it would hurt this bad to see him move on.

Why am I even here? I'm bloody miserable. I don't know anyone! Except for the bride, but that's beside the point.

Thankfully, I'm not left to dwell on Oliver's love life for long because the rehearsal soon starts. And—surprise, surprise—this is just as pointless as I figured it would be. I'm told where to stand, where to walk, how fast to walk, where to stop, and several other things that I don't even understand. And it's totally futile because a) I'm not going to remember this tomorrow, and b) I'm going to trip down the aisle anyway.

After repeating the whole process several times, Leanne finally calls it quits and instructs us all to make our way across the street to the reception hall. Joy, joy.

I wait until everyone else has left before collapsing into a pew. I am so not ready to join them over there yet.

"You okay?" a voice asks from behind me and I quickly turn around. To my surprise, I'm not the last one left after all. Oliver's still here too.

"I'm fine," I say with a weak laugh, more embarrassed at having been caught than anything else.

"You don't like these people," he says knowingly, taking a seat next to me.

"No, I certainly do not," I agree.

"I saw you stumble during that last walk through, by the way," he jokes.

"Damn," I mutter. "I thought no one had seen that. I swear though, I'm going to ruin the whole ceremony tomorrow."

"I'm sure you'll do fine."

"Yeah right. The heels Leanne has me wearing are twice as high as these," I say, lifting up my foot for emphasis.

"You'd think she'd know better."

"You sure would…"

We sit there for a few seconds in silence. Are Oliver and I actually having a conversation?

"So, are you coming or not?" he asks, standing up.

"I don't really know," I answer honestly, looking up into his eyes desperately.

"You know that Leanne wants you there."

"Yeah, but she won't notice if I'm not."

"Well she might, considering you're sitting right next to her." I'd forgotten about that.

"Fine, I'm coming. But I'm making no promises on how long I'm staying."

"Sounds good to me. You might want to leave before my best man speech anyway."

"That bad?" I joke.

"Oh, come on," he defends himself as we make our way out of the church. "Give me a break. I play Quidditch for a living."

"You know, I'm pretty sure you could hire someone to write a speech for you. Especially since you're _famous_ and all. Don't you have like a publicist or something?"

"Yeah, but I know for a fact that what I've written is better than anything my publicist could have come up with. Plus, it's more personal this way."

"But it's less painful for everyone else the other way," I joke.

"Ouch," he retorts, clutching his heart as if I've deeply wounded him. "You're starting to hurt my feelings, Katie."

"Well then you'll have to prove me wrong, won't you?"

"Listen to my speech and get back to me," he says as we arrive into the hall that we'd both helped decorate the day before.

"I will," I agree as he's pulled away by some friends of his. He waves at me before departing.

A name plate is set in front of each dinner setting and as people begin taking their seats, I head to the main table to find mine. The bright side of being forced to do that seating chart is that I _am_ sure on where I'm supposed to sit. I circle the table to my spot, but to my surprise it's not there. I circle the whole table again.

"Oh, Katie," Leanne exclaims, coming over. I immediately see the apology in her eyes. Great. "I'm really sorry. When you and Oliver made the seating chart, he wasn't planning on bringing a date and when Jaiden called to get a seat…" Jaiden—great name. "I couldn't move Oliver because he has to do the speech. And I couldn't very well move Cullen's family or mine."

"So you moved me," I finish.

"I am so sorry!"

"No, Leanne, it's fine," I assure her, trying to figure out where in the world I was going to sit now. Maybe if I just left she wouldn't notice….

"But I put you at the table with the rest of the bridesmaids," she continues as if this makes up for it.

"Great!" I say, but she doesn't seem to catch the sarcasm in my voice.

"Thanks so much, Katie." I can't help but roll my eyes as I walk off. I scan the room quickly, already having made up my mind that if I don't see anyone I know, I'm leaving. My eyes meet Charlie's and he waves. Hallelujah, there is a God! I make my way over.

"You're not really leaving, are you?" Oliver's voice says from behind me and I turn to find him hand and hand with…Jaiden. Well, that's enough to get my temper up.

"No. I found someone I know—I'm good." Oliver's eyes meet Charlie's. Charlie waves jokingly and Oliver rolls his eyes.

"Uh, I stick to what I said before. I think Leanne's going to notice if you're not in your seat."

"Uh, no she's not," I retort. "Your girlfriend got my seat." Without another word, I leave him standing there and take the empty chair next to Charlie. To my surprise, Ben is also sitting there with a pretty brunette.

"Hi, I'm Katie Bell," I introduce myself to her.

"Mallory Livingston," she says with a smile.

"What are you doing back here?" Charlie asks.

"Yeah, shouldn't you be at the fancy table in the middle of the room?" Ben agrees, draping his arm around Mallory's shoulder. And strangely, it doesn't disgust me like every other couple in the room seems to. Probably because Mallory doesn't even seem to notice and stares instead at the table mentioned.

"Ugh, Jaiden," she says and my heart flips.

"You don't like her?" I ask. I have to admit that shocked me. Jaiden just seems like the type of person you have to like. But then again, I'm a sucker for pretty people.

"No way. And she doesn't like me either. It's a mutual relationship. Why? Do you know her?"

"No, but I do know that she took my seat at the _fancy_ table."

"Bitch," Mallory mutters. I take in the uncomfortable look on Ben's face.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask him with a laugh. Mallory looks at his face and laughs too.

"He doesn't like her either," Mallory explains. "But he won't say anything out of loyalty to Oliver. Which is absolutely ridiculous, I might add. If any of my friends were dating an asshole, I'd tell them."

"Well, you're not a guy," Ben retorts.

"Thank God for that." Ben rolls his eyes.

"Jaiden's not that bad," he explains to me. "She's just a little too…opinionated for my taste. She's perfect for Oliver though." Seeming to remember that I'm the one he'd seen Oliver kissing a month before, Ben looks away quickly.

"So, you got _kicked out_ of the fancy table?" Charlie finally clarifies.

"Sure," I laugh.

The caterers soon arrive at every setting to get orders. "I'm not really that hungry," I tell the man attending to our table.

"The food's free, Miss."

"I know that the food is free, but I don't want any." He just looks at me expectantly. "What are you serving?" I finally ask.

"Chicken, fish, or steak."

"Fish. And can you bring me something strong to drink?"

"We've got wine."

"Just wine? Okay, whatever."

"Red or—"

"I really don't care." He walks away looking very confused.

"What's got you refusing solid food?" Charlie asks after he's gone.

"I really just want to get out of here."

The four of us talk amiably until our food arrives, but even then I can't help but watch Oliver. He sits there, laughing with Cullen while his arm is draped around Jaiden's shoulder as if it's the most natural thing in the world. What I wouldn't give to be at that table right now...

The waiter keeps my wine glass filled and I soon lose count of how many glasses I've had. I do, however, realize that it isn't having the effect that I desire. I guess after having so much Firewhiskey, wine just won't cut it anymore—all I'm getting is a good buzz.

Oliver's best man speech is actually decent and when he's done, he immediately looks to me. I just shrug and he seems to take that as a compliment. Ben notices our exchange and smirks at me.

"What?" I mouth and he just rolls his eyes.

The room slowly begins emptying after that and, overjoyed, I get up to leave with them. I've only just stood up when Charlie pulls me back down.

"Hey!" I cry as I land back in my seat.

"You're not going anywhere until someone can go with you, babe," he says, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'm not drunk," I argue.

"No, but you're getting there. Plus, do you really think walking across London by yourself is the best idea after what happened at the last wedding you went to?"

"Hmph," I retort and lay my head down on my hands.

"We're going to go," Ben says a few minutes later. "I'll see you, Charlie."

"They're going to a strip club," Mallory tells me as she gets up. "For Cullen's _bachelor _party."

"You guys are sick," I mutter, hoping that they can hear me since my head's still buried in my arms.

"See—thank you! She agrees with me."

"It's a muggle strip club, babe," Ben soothes her. "There's no competition."

"You're still sick," I tell him and I feel him hit me on the head gently.

"Ow," I groan, lifting my head up.

"Oops—sorry. My hand slipped," he says sarcastically.

"Ha ha. Just try to keep it in your pants, smartass." He rolls his eyes and laughs at me. I laugh at myself too. They both say goodbye and leave Charlie and me alone.

"I really want to go home," I tell him.

"Not without someone going with you."

"So, are you going to offer to take me home or am I going to have to sleep here?"

"Well, if you ask politely…"

"Charlie Weasley!" I exclaim. He just raises his eyebrows expectantly. "This is ridiculous! I don't even need someone to take me home—I'm not drunk! I don't need to ask your permission to leave."

"I'm not letting you leave alone," he says with a grin.

"Well, I'm not going to ask you to come with me!"

"Then it looks like we're both sleeping here tonight."

"You wouldn't," I retort matter-of-factly. "You have a strip club to get to."

"Now why would I care anything about a strip club when I have a perfectly drunk girl right in front of me?" Is he honestly flirting? I roll my eyes, but calm down a bit nonetheless.

"Charlie, will you please escort me to my flat?" I ask politely.

"Of course I will, Katie. All you had to do was ask." I roll my eyes and pick up my purse.

"And I'm not drunk," I mutter.

"Right, right. Oi, Oliver!" Wondering what in the name of Merlin he's doing, I turn to find Oliver only a few feet from us. "I'm going to be a little late, so you can just leave without me."

Oliver looks warily between the two of us before responding. "You know where we're going?"

"Uh, yeah," Charlie answers. Oliver just nods, throws one last look at me, and walks out the door. "You coming?" Charlie asks, and I join him as we hit the street. My flat's really not that far away so we walk.

"You okay?" he asks after walking for a while in silence.

"Yeah, I'm fine." It only takes a few more minutes for us to arrive at my place and for me to realize that I don't have my key. Knowing that a simple unlocking charm won't work, I knock on the door.

Fred's face soon appears at the window and he frowns when he takes in his brother standing next to me.

"What's he doing here?" Charlie asks as Fred busies himself with unlocking the door.

"Girlfriend lives here. George's probably here too…" Sure enough, as soon as the protective spells are removed, Fred and George both stick their heads through the crack in the door.

"Who was your first crush?" George asks me with a smirk. I roll my eyes.

"Why is _that_ always the question you ask me?" I demand, annoyed.

"Because the answer's funny."

"Fred," I mumble. "Now let me in." I push past the two. Charlie tries to follow but they stop him.

"Not so fast, dear brother," Fred taunts and then pauses, trying to think of an embarrassing enough question. "How many of Bill's ex-girlfriends have you slept with?"

"Hey—that's not fair," Charlie argues. "Especially since you don't know the correct answer. And you know very well that he's the one that started it." I can't help but laugh along with Fred and George as they let him in.

"What are you doing here anyway?" George asks, taking a seat across form Alicia on the couch where they're playing a game of Wizard's Chess.

"Katie here had a few too many glasses of wine at dinner, so I agreed to escort her home."

"_I am not drunk!"_ I argue for about the fifth time that night. Charlie laughs at me.

"Well, I have a bachelor party to get to, but I'll see all of you tomorrow right?" We all nod and he gives me one last smile before Disapparating.

"_No_, Katie," Fred says harshly as soon as he's gone.

"No what?"

"_No!_ No Charlie. He's too old for you!"

"Not again," I groan.

"And he lives in Romania," Fred continues. George keeps on playing his game and I take that to mean that he doesn't really care one way or the other.

"Fred, leave the poor girl alone," Angelina says, coming in from the kitchen.

"I'm just saying," Fred defends himself. "It would never work out."

"Just leave me alone," I mutter. "It's been a bad night."

"How come?" Fred asks. Like I'm about to tell him about Oliver and his girlfriend.

"I just don't like weddings."

But I'm not jealous.

I'm not!

--

**A/N: I tried to find a character for Oliver to date that we were familiar with, but none seemed to work so I created my own.**

_Next time on _Love and War: _Leanne's wedding. And a kiss for Katie. _

**_Review, please!_**


	10. Another Wedding

**A/N: Sorry for the bit of delay on this chapter (at least it felt like a delay to me). I was on vacation to the gorgeous city of Washington, D.C. But this is my longest chapter yet, so that should make up for it.**

**--**

_Another Wedding:_

Sleep does not come easily much to my surprise. It's not my wedding; what in the world do I have to be nervous about? The nerves are there nonetheless.

God, I hate heels! My impending trip down the aisle isn't the only thing keeping me awake, however.

Oliver has a girlfriend. There's no longer any hope that he was lying or I'd just dreamed that entire conversation—I've met her. She's there and she's gorgeous. Which roughly translates to: I have _no_ chance.

So maybe I am a little jealous after all.

But if I've still got these feelings for Oliver locked up inside, then why isn't _his_ the only face I see before I go to sleep?

There's just something about Charlie Weasley. God, how I never thought I'd say those words. Fred would kill me…

Maybe it's just curiosity; actually, it probably is just curiosity. He's older—much older than any guy I've ever been with. Dating Oliver who's three years my senior was a stretch, but is six years pushing the mark? Not that I'd ever consider dating Charlie—not really. I mean, he lives in Romania and even with Apparation, that's a bit too far away for my liking.

Not to mention the problems Fred would have with the whole situation.

But what I wouldn't give to just know what it feels like before he has to go back…

**--**

It's still dark outside when I'm rudely awoken from my sleep. I barely have time to recognize Angelina and Alicia before I'm undressed and thrust into the shower. As soon as the warm water is turned on, the world quickly comes into focus. My helpers leave the room to allow me to bathe in peace. Why the hell did they wake me up this early?

Wrapped in a towel, I head back to my room where Alicia and Angelina are sitting smugly on my bed, still in their pajamas.

"What the hell is your problem?" I mutter, collapsing onto a nearby chair.

"We figured you'd need some help getting ready," Alicia says cheerfully, digging through my nearly empty closet to find my bridesmaid dress.

"You guys suck. The wedding doesn't start until eleven."

"But you have to be there by ten," Angelina answers, looking up from her nails which she's painting pink. I look at the clock and then out the window to where the sun has thankfully decided to make it's presence known.

"It's only seven thirty," I complain. "I still have two and a half hours—I'm going back to bed." I move to do just that, but Alicia grabs me roughly by the shoulder and shoves my dress into my hands.

"No you don't," she argues. "Get dressed."

Slightly dazed, I slip the dress over my head and I have to admit that the thing does fit pretty well. I guess Leanne really does know what she's doing.

"That dress is beautiful," Alicia praises, looking at it enviously.

"Yeah," I admit, "at least Leanne has fashion sense."

"Not that you'd know," Angelina laughs.

"Shut it!" I defend myself. "Just because I don't _choose_ to wear fashionable clothes doesn't mean I don't know what _is_ fashionable."

"Of course it doesn't, sweetie," she replies patronizingly, pushing me into a chair so that she can have better access to my hair.

"Which would look better: straight or curly?" she asks Alicia. Good to know I have no choice in the matter.

"Straight." I roll my eyes and lay my head back. It's too early to argue…

**--**

"Katie, wake up." My head jerks up so fast that my neck strains from the effort. I rub it soothingly and look into the laughing faces of my friends.

"What?" I groan.

"You're ready," Alicia says happily. Warily, I turn my attention to the mirror in front of me.

My hair's in a loose bun and I have on much more make-up than I'm used to, but even I have to admit that it doesn't look bad.

"What's the big deal anyway?" I ask since I can't find anything to complain about. "I mean, it's Leanne's wedding—why do I have to look good?"

Angelina shakes her head at me in disbelief. "Do you know the only reason single guys come to weddings? To hook up with girls desperate to get married. Girls like you."

"Hey!"

"You don't have to believe me," Angelina continues. "Just remember what I said when you find yourself shagging some guy before the day's over."

I choose not to argue and instead take a look at the clock on my wall once again. "I'm ready way too early. I still have an hour before I have to be there."

"No, Leanne _told_ you to be there in an hour. That doesn't mean that's the time she _wants _you there," Alicia retorts cryptically.

"Leanne's getting ready at the church, honey," Angelina explains. "And no girl wants to be left alone with her mum before her wedding." I'll just take her word for it because I would do anything to have my mum at my wedding.

"Well then, I guess I'll just go then," I say, picking up my bag. They both wave and, much against my will, I Disapparate. It's not that I don't want to be as much help to Leanne as I possibly can, but what do I know about helping people get ready?

The church is a scene of chaos. Workers are running around the place carrying flowers and God knows what else. It's absolutely crazy. Now that I've seen the inner workings of a wedding, I'm not really sure that I want to go through the trouble for myself. I spot Leanne's mum talking to a group of people near the door and I slowly approach her.

"Excuse me," I say, tapping her on the shoulder.

"Oh, Katie dear. You look lovely." I smile sheepishly.

"Where's Leanne?" I ask without further ado. "I figured that she could use some company."

"You figured right. Just go down that hall and to the right."

"Thank you," I mutter and take off.

I'm about half way down the hall when a door at the end opens. I turn to see Oliver, dressed in tuxedo pants and a white T-shirt, stepping out. He makes eye contact and we just stare at each other awkwardly for a few seconds.

"Hi," I finally say.

"Hi," he replies, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "You look good."

"Uh, thanks. So, is Cullen okay?" I ask, gesturing to the door he'd just come out of.

"He's actually fine. I'd be a nervous wreck, but I guess having a long engagement helps."

"It certainly seems that way," I agree.

"Listen, Katie, about last night—"

"It's fine," I interrupt.

"No—it's not. If I'd have known bringing Jai was going to—"

"Seriously, Oliver, it's fine. I think I got a better trade off, anyway."

"Yeah, Ben said you got pretty pissed last night," he accuses.

"I was not drunk! Why do people keep on insisting that I was?"

"Because it wouldn't be the first time…"

"Ben doesn't know that!" He laughs at me for several seconds.

"Good luck today," he says sincerely. "Try not to trip."

"Ha ha. Not funny." He's still smirking at me as he rounds the corner. I watch him until he disappears and then knock gently on the door that I believe is Leanne's.

"Who is it?" I hear her familiar voice call form the inside.

"Katie," I answer.

"Come in." I open the door and find Leanne sitting on a chair in the middle of the room sporting the most beautiful wedding gown I've ever seen. Only she could pull something that extravagant off. But even in all of its elegance, the dress is still quite simple—a strapless beaded bodice over a flowing skirt.

Two other people are in the room, one focusing on her hair and the other on her make-up. Just like Angelina and Alicia did to me this morning.

"You look beautiful," I sigh, walking over to my friend.

"Thanks," she says and I can see the happiness glowing in her eyes. "I can't believe that this is really about to happen."

"Are you ready?" I ask, pulling up a chair to sit next to her.

"I've never been more ready for anything in my life. I—I'm just so lucky. I love him so much."

"He loves you too, Leanne."

"I just want to make him happy, you know," she says as tears well up in her eyes.

"I know, honey, and you will." I turn to the lady doing her make-up and say, "You did put water-proof mascara on her, right?" Leanne laughs lightly.

"Of course I did," the lady responds roughly. The hair and make-up ladies finish soon after that and excuse themselves, leaving Leanne and myself alone.

"Can I ask you something?" she says after a while.

"Of course."

"I'm nervous. About tonight. After the wedding, you know." I takes me a few seconds to figure out what she's talking about. When it hits me, I feel my mouth open in a small 'O'.

Sex.

Although I'd always assumed Leanne and Cullen weren't doing anything, it still came as a bit of a shock. I mean, they've been living together since Leanne and I graduated, even if they were in separate rooms.

And this is the one topic I don't have an answer to.

"Aw, Leanne, honey," I laugh lightly. "You know I can't help you there." Her eyes fall dejectedly.

"I just thought that maybe you had—recently."

"I haven't. Just don't be nervous, Leanne. He's going to take good care of you. You know that."

"Yeah, I know. I guess I'm just scared it's going to be awkward. I feel like if we'd had sex spontaneously before, I wouldn't have all of this built up worry. Maybe waiting was not the best idea."

I just shrug my shoulders because I honestly have no advice there. I've never had a mum to tell me that I should wait until I'm married. I've heard it from other people, sure, but I honestly don't understand the benefits one way or the other.

"I could get Angelina if you want," I suggest feebly. "Maybe she could shed some light on the subject."

"That's sweet, but I don't think that someone who's been having sex with Fred Weasley is going to be able to help me very much…" I can't help but laugh.

"That's probably true," I admit, just as the door opens and Leanne's mum emerges with several of Leanne's other bridesmaids. They immediately start squealing at her dress. God, save me.

I sit moodily in a corner until an usher suddenly comes into the room and tells us that it's time. I get up with the rest of them and even feel a few butterflies in my own stomach. Poor Leanne. I can only imagine how nervous she is.

Her face doesn't betray anything, however. She looks just as beautiful as ever as we line up.

And then the music starts and the next thing you know, I'm taking careful steps down the aisle, determined not to trip. Thankfully, I arrive at my spot without incident and sigh in relief.

As the vows start, I look across and see Oliver's eyes on my own, a small smile playing on his lips. I wrinkle my brows in confusion and he motions towards the bride and groom with his eyes. I can't help but smile.

Our two best friends are getting married! I mean, Oliver and Cullen are practically brothers and Leanne and I have known each other since we were toddlers. It's hard to believe that she's entering the next stage in her life and leaving me behind. It seems like just yesterday that she had a crush on Oliver and I was going into Hogsmeade with Cullen.

Rather than listen to the preacher who's marrying my friends, I reminisce. Words are just words, but my memories do much more justice. I see the love in both of their eyes and I know that whatever happens with our world—with all of the death and destruction surrounding us everyday—that they are going to get through it. Together.

"Well then, I declare you bonded for life. You may now kiss the bride." I clap along with everyone else.

I exit along with the bridal party as the many guests begin grabbing their belongings before heading to the reception hall. And because it's simply inevitable, I stumble on my way out of the door, just out of sight of the guests. I hear a soft chuckle from behind me and turn to find Oliver.

"It's not funny," I argue.

"You're right. It's pathetic."

"Not everyone is gifted with your incredible sense of balance, Mr. Wood."

"You do fine on a broom," he laughs.

"Well, staying balanced on a broom is a life or death situation. I try extra hard," I joke.

"You're a natural in the air," he says and I can sense in his voice the 'Why didn't you join the Harpies?' conversation. I don't want to go into that one here.

Thankfully (or not—depends on how you look at it), Jaiden shows up at that moment and wraps her arms around Oliver's waist possessively.

"Hey," he greets her and I take great pleasure in noting that he tries to remove her arms. At least he's not a complete ass—he doesn't want me to feel uncomfortable. "Katie, this is my girlfriend, Jai. Jai, this is…um, an old friend of mine from Hogwarts…Katie Bell."

"Nice to meet you," I say politely.

"Pleasure," she replies with a small smile.

"Ok, well," I say, preparing myself to leave.

"Katie Bell!" A shout suddenly fills the entrance to the church and I feel my cheeks flame red as I recognize Fred's voice. I turn in the direction of it and notice Angelina laughing silently as she turns Fred in the opposite direction so that he can catch sight of me.

"There you are," he says, arriving next to me. "I thought you'd ran off with _him_." He spits out the last word.

"Who are you—" He puts a hand in front of my face to silence me and turns instead to Oliver.

"I've got a bone to pick with you," he addresses him. My heart immediately begins racing. Sure, they don't like each other very much, but they have always been civil in public. "Why was _I_ not invited to the bachelor party?" I roll my eyes as Oliver laughs.

"Because you barely know Cullen," he answers.

"I really don't see that as a necessity…"

"Fred, shut it," I groan.

"No, you shut it. Oh! By the way, if you get anywhere near _him_ today it's not going to be good."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I beg.

"Charlie—he's too old for you!"

"Fred!" I cry, outraged. "Leave—now!" Angelina comes over and removes her boyfriend while my cheeks are still flaming. It takes me a while to remember that I'm still standing here with Oliver and Jaiden.

"Sorry about that," I mutter. "I fed him once and now he won't go away."

"At least Ange can still control him," Oliver says.

"Yes, I'm thankful for that everyday." Oliver laughs and before Jaiden or I can do anything to stop them, several guys come and drag Oliver away, leaving us alone. We both stand there awkwardly, neither wanting to say anything and both too polite to leave without doing so.

"Hi," I finally say, figuring she could start some sort of conversation from that.

"Hi," she agrees. "I've seen pictures of you."

"You've—what?"

"At Oliver's. You were on his Quidditch team a few years ago, right?"

"Oh," I sigh in relief. "Yeah, I was. Great team."

"He talks about you sometimes."

"Yeah, I've heard a lot about you too," I lie and a smirk forms on her face. Why do I do that; give her things to use against me?

Seeming to have run out of things to say, the both of us remain silent, standing there uneasily. She begins gazing across the room and I follow her eyes to where Oliver and Ben are joking around with some of their friends.

"Um, I need to go find someone," I say finally, when I realize that Oliver's not coming back anytime soon.

"Oh—bye," she says much too cheerfully. Not knowing where to go, I re-enter the church. To my surprise, I see Lee and Charlie sitting in the back pew, discussing something in low voices.

"You would be like a foreign correspondent, you know?" Lee says as I walk over.

"Yeah, I think it's a brilliant idea if you really know what you're getting into."

"Just what exactly _are_ you getting into?" I ask, walking over to join them and they both jump.

"Damn it, Katie! Don't do that," Lee exclaims.

"What're you doing?" I repeat. Lee shifts uncomfortably in his seat before responding.

"I'll tell you later, Katie, I promise. I'm just running kind of short on time right now."

"Why? Where are you going?"

"It's not important. I'll talk to you tonight. And thanks, Charlie."

"No problem," Charlie replies as Lee leaves the building.

"Where's he going?" I demand.

"No idea," Charlie responds. "Come on; we need to get to the reception."

Much against my will, I find myself arriving at the after party. Charlie and I take a seat at a table near the back, but before I know it I'm being pulled away. By Fred, of course, but he thankfully doesn't cause a scene. I dance a bit but mostly hang out at the refreshment table with Mallory until Fred is drunk enough not to notice my absence. I slowly make my way back to Charlie.

"This is boring," I comment, taking the seat next to him.

"It's not all that bad," he argues, turning to face me.

"Your brother's being an ass."

"Which one?"

"Fred! He freaks every time I try to come over here."

"Ah, let me guess. Am I too old for you?" he asks with a laugh.

"Yup."

"And do you disagree?" I look him in the eyes before responding.

"Yup."

"Well then, why don't we try to make this wedding a bit more entertaining?" I gasp quietly as I fell him place his hand on my knee. "After all, I _do_ leave for Romania tomorrow."

He gives me a look that clearly says he's willing to stop if I am. I don't say a word. Instead, I slowly ease his hand a bit higher up my leg, hoping that he gets the message.

"Just a wild guess," he leans in to whisper in my ear, "but do you want to get out of here? There's an empty room down the hall."

"Let's go," I agree.

He quickly pulls me up from the table and we exit the room hand in hand, not caring who sees us. If only Fred knew what we were doing…

Before the door to the reception hall has even fully shut behind us, Charlie has me pressed up against the wall and our lips meet. Unable to control ourselves, the kiss intensifies until rational thinking slips away completely. His tongue explores my mouth as my hands tangle in his hair.

The door next to us opens and we quickly break apart. Two people I don't recognize emerge and throw us wary glances before disappearing down the hall. Within seconds, his lips are back on mine, traveling slowly downward as he kisses my jaw and then my neck.

"We're…in…a hallway," I gasp. He just gives me a sly grin before pressing his lips back to mine. I'm about to argue when I suddenly feel my feet leave the ground. Wrapping my legs around his waist, he carries me into a deserted room and lays me down on a couch, shutting the door behind him.

"Better?" he asks, leaning down on top of me and nipping my neck gently. That's going to leave a mark…I can only nod.

His lips cover mine once again and he bites my bottom lip slightly, sending shivers throughout my body. Without even thinking, I kick off my shoes and feel him respond by taking off his jacket. The lack of clothing only seems to spur us on and I feel his hand begin to travel up from my waist to rest on my chest.

I unbutton his shirt and watch as it slides to the floor, allowing me to run my hands across his chest. We stay like that for a while, kissing furiously, before I feel his hand travel to my back and begin unzipping the dress. I don't even think about it as the dress begins to come off.

Charlie pulls back briefly as if asking for permission. Surprised that he still has that much self-control, I laugh slightly and begin undoing his pants. He seems to take that as the go-ahead and before I know it my dress is gone, pulled down just enough to give him access to my breasts.

I finally get his pants undone when—

"Oh God!" I hear a voice exclaim from the door. Charlie and I separate quickly and I pull my dress up. Angelina and Fred are standing at the door and when I make eye contact, Angelina quickly rushes over to help me zip up my dress. Fred stands there speechless as Charlie rushes to grab his shirt.

"Can't you just leave me alone for five seconds!?" I cry enraged.

Fred closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Before he can answer, however, someone else arrives at the door.

"Are you okay? I heard someone scream," Oliver says, coming to a stop and glancing between Charlie's half-dressed form to my disheveled appearance. He falls silent.

"Katie," Fred says calmly, his eyes still firmly shut. "Get out of here. Now." I stand there, trying to decide whether to listen to him or not, but he seems to pick up on my resistance. "Leanne is looking for you…just go." I look to Charlie for help and he motions me to the door.

"Have a safe trip back to Romania," I tell him and he gives me a small smile before I head out the door after Angelina. Oliver makes no move to follow us, but I leave nonetheless.

Fred shuts the door behind me, and within seconds Angelina and I have our ears pressed against it.

"I can't believe you did that!" Fred says, trying to keep his voice as calm as possible. "I told you to stay away from her."

"We were just messing around, mate—"

"Is that supposed to make me feel any better?" he cries angrily.

"Can't we just forget about this? I'm leaving tomorrow—nothing happened, thanks to you."

"That's not the bloody point!" Fred yells once again and Angelina and I both flinch. "Don't you _ever_ go near her again! Don't touch her, don't talk to her, don't write to her. She's better off without you—she's doing fine without you!"

"You're so naïve, Fred! Do you seriously believe that given the chance she won't just do this again with the next guy she finds a fancy for? I mean, just last month she was—"

"Charlie!" Oliver stops him. How the hell does Charlie know about Oliver and I?

"No, Oliver. I mean, Come on! Fred, this is ridiculous. She's old enough to make her own decisions—she's almost nineteen for God's sake!"

"Five years younger than you!"

"Fred," Oliver tries to calm him, "just give it a rest."

"Why would I listen to you? I don't even bloody like you!"

"C'mon, Katie, let's go," Angelina whispers from the other side of me and we both pick ourselves up and head back towards the reception.

"So, was it worth it?" she says after a while. I smirk up at her.

"Hell yeah."

--

**Once again, I would like people to tell me if they think I need to change the rating. I have no problem moving it up if people have problem with the content.**

_Next time on _Love and War_: Potterwatch, the mystery sender of Oliver's non-letter-sending letter pouch, and quite a bit more._

**I really like this chapter and although I did type it up pretty quickly, I think it deserves a review! And it's long! So, review please.**


	11. Muggleborns

**A/N: Okay, so the rating's going to stay where it is for now. I don't foresee anything worse than the last chapter in the near future. But it's still subject to change; just keep that in mind because I don't want any one getting frustrated if it does become necessary to raise it.**

--

_Muggleborns:_

The din from the music and all of the events of the night are slowly drowning me, and I want nothing more than to return to my quiet, peaceful flat.

One problem: Leanne and her stupid bouquet. She's already made it perfectly clear that I'm not going anywhere until I catch that damn garland and walk away from this wedding with a date.

Angelina and I are silently sitting at the table that Charlie and I had recently vacated, waiting patiently for Leanne to decide to wrap things up, when a body plops into the seat next to me. I turn just enough to recognize Fred and immediately move to face Angelina instead. Before I can stop her, she gives me an apologetic smile and then excuses herself.

"Katie…" Fred starts. I make no move to turn around. "Please look at me." I close my eyes in frustration, but slowly turn to face him. "You know I love you, right?"

I don't answer and he just rolls his eyes. "You're being ridiculous, Katie."

"You know what? I actually don't think I am. Six years at Hogwarts together and I never once told you that you couldn't be with someone." I retort harshly.

"That's different!"

"How? How the hell is that any different?"

"Because…because that's me!" he stutters.

"Nice comeback." Fred rolls his eyes in frustration.

"Do you remember my seventh year—when I punched Michael Corner because he was looking at Ginny in a way that he definitely shouldn't have been looking at her?"

"I remember. You got detention for a week and Ginny still dated him."

"I'd forgotten about that part…but in my own weird way that's what I was doing with you."

"It's not the same," I say. "Corner was an arse."

"So is Charlie!"

"How can you even say that? He's your brother!"

"I can say that because I just walked in on him trying to shag you in the back room of your best friend's wedding," he answers matter-of-factly and I'm left speechless.

"It's just as much my fault as it is his," I finally admit.

"No it's not—it's _always_ the guy's fault."

"I like him, Fred. I really don't see the problem. You may think of yourself as my older brother and I'm fine with that, but I know you don't expect me to be a virgin forever."

"You're right—I don't. But I'm not going to let you just throw it away because you want to get it over with. That's what you were doing with Lee! This isn't a you-can't-date-my-brother thing…it's a you-_aren't_-dating-my-brother thing. If you like Charlie…go for it, for real. But don't make me watch you ruin your life by sleeping with him and then being all depressed when he doesn't write to you. Girls don't mean anything to him."

"Oh—just like you, right?" I mutter.

"Three and a half years I've been with Ange! Don't go bringing up my past now."

"I wasn't looking for a relationship," I admit.

"I know you weren't. That's why I stopped you."

"…But I do need to talk to Charlie."

"Well, I don't know where he is. Him and Oliver were going at it when I left." I quickly scan the room and find Oliver over at the bar and Charlie no where in sight. "Are we okay, Katie?" he finally asks me and, for the first time, I look into his eyes.

"We're…_okay_," I agree. "Not good…but okay." That seems to be enough for him and he pecks me on the forehead before getting up.

"Everything I do, I do for you, babe," he says and with a bow, he's gone.

I let out a sigh of frustration and lean my head on the back of my chair, closing my eyes in a futile effort to clear my mind of the many things bouncing around inside it.

"How did he know?" a voice suddenly asks harshly and I slowly raise my head to see Oliver sitting there, looking madder than I've ever seen him. Even during Quidditch he never got mad, just disappointed. Some people say that disappointment's worse, but seeing this look on Oliver's face I definitely have to disagree.

"How did who know what?" I ask, slightly dazed. "And do you know where Charlie went?"

"How did Charlie know about the you-know-what between us?" The what? Oh…

"The kiss?" I confirm.

"Shut it! You don't have to shout!" I look around the room quickly; there's no one anywhere near us.

"I don't know how the hell Charlie knew about the kiss. Now, do you know where he is?"

"You must have told him!" he interrupts, totally ignoring my question.

"I didn't him anything! Where the hell is—?"

"I sent him to my flat! The last thing Cullen needs right now is for Fred to deck his brother in the middle of a hundred guests."

"I need to talk to—"

"Oh no you don't," Oliver argues. "I sat back and watched as you made_ that_ mistake yourself—you don't need to talk to him. He used you; end of story."

"No—not end of story. He wasn't using me!" And in my heart I know that it's the truth. Sure, I never had any intention of actually carrying on a relationship with him, but by no means was I _using_ him. I _liked_ him. And I know that that feeling was mutual.

"You're so naïve, Katie," he says, almost regrettably. "You never could see what was right in front of your face."

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I ask, my temper rising quickly.

"Nothing—so you swear you didn't tell him about me…and you."

"I didn't tell anyone! Well…except for Angelina and Alicia, but they wouldn't tell anyone!"

Oliver groans. "How the hell could you possibly know that?"

"Because it's embarrassing! And plus, who would they tell? Fred and George? Fred would have killed you by now."

"So kissing me is embarrassing now, is it?"

"Always was," I retort.

"So your friends just had to go and blab their mouths to Charlie. Who knows how many other people they've told?"

"I told you—they wouldn't have told anyone! They promised."

"Well if not them, then who?" He pauses, a look of understanding passing over his face. "Ben...damn it! Where is he?"

"Ha ha," I taunt. "Wasn't my friends after all, now was it?"

"Shut it, Bell. Where's Ben?"

"I don't know! Maybe he's off shagging your girlfriend somewhere."

"Oh, come on! Give Ben more credit than that," he says distractedly, looking around for his roommate.

"Ben?" I ask with a laugh. "What? Does Jaiden not deserve the same credit?"

He looks at me warily before answering. "It wouldn't be the first time," he finally admits.

"Then why are you still with her?" I cry angrily. I can deal with him having a girlfirend, but not one that doesn't deserve him.

"It's complicated," he answers, still scanning the room.

"Complicated?" I ask, grabbing his face in two hands and moving it so that he's staring at me. "It can't be that complicated—seems pretty easy to me. She cheats on you; you break up with her."

"That doesn't work when you're in love. You forgive and forget." I let go of his face and can't help but laugh at that statement.

"Well, good luck, Oliver. It sounds like you might need it more than I do."

Unwilling to listen to the happy guests any longer, I get up from my seat and leave the wedding without a backwards glance. It's not like catching the bouquet would have done me any good anyway. In order to get married, you need to have a boyfriend—some thing which I'm not having much luck with at the moment.

**--**

I Apparate straight onto my couch and lay back with a groan of relief.

"Katie?" a tentative voice asks, making me jump. I turn around to find Lee sitting at my kitchen table, clutching a copy of the _Evening Prophet. _

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?" I gasp. "You scared the living daylights out of me!"

"Sorry. I just came to talk to you—like I promised earlier."

"Oh yeah. I totally forgot about that!"

"I think you should see this first," he says, holding the paper out for me to take. The somber expression on his face has me hopping up from the sofa immediately.

I look at the headline and almost lose my very expensive (not that I was the one paying) dinner. I look to Lee for confirmation and he just nods. I read the title again: _Muggleborns Wanted for Questioning._

"What…?" I ask, unable to form coherent sentences and unwilling to actually read the article.

"They're rounding up muggleborns," Lee explains dejectedly. "Under the basis that they've somehow _stolen_ their magic. They have to submit to questioning with the Ministry and if they can't prove that they have a close magical relative, then they're being locked up."

"Locked up?"

"In Azkaban. It's—"

"It's not fair!" I interrupt. "That's total bullshit! Is everyone in this bloody country oblivious to the fact that You-Know-Who is behind this?"

"They know it, Katie. They're just in denial. They want to believe that he's not in control, so they convince themselves that it's the truth," Lee answers calmly.

"And there's nothing anyone can do about it?"

"There's never nothing…but there's not much. Nothing smart, at least. Nothing that won't have you killed before you can do any real good."

"Well then," I decide, "We'll have to start small. I'm quitting _The Prophet_…tomorrow."

"I figured you'd say that," Lee muses. "Just be smart about it, please. Tell them you're pregnant or something. They're not letting anyone out of their sight without reason."

"Oh, well I _am_ pregnant, didn't you hear?" I joke.

"I'd warn Fred—those Death Eaters are going to think that he's the father." I can't help but chuckle at that.

"Poor Angelina."

"I quit my job tonight too. I just couldn't report all that muggleborn shit. But I've been thinking about quitting for a while now and I think I have an idea of something that could help a lot of people," he says, and I can see the excitement light up in his face for the first time in months.

"People need the real facts, Katie. They need to know that Moody died trying to protect Harry Potter and that Harry's still out there—somewhere—and he's going to fix this. They need to know that Dumbledore was killed by Snape and that muggleborns aren't scum. They need the truth."

"The truth is the one thing that's hard to come by these days. What are you thinking?"

"Something incredibly stupid. But I've talked to a lot of the Order and I'm pretty sure I've come up with a plan to make it run safely. I mean, Kingsley was going to do it but he's a little busy running from the Death Eaters on his tail right now. And—"

"Lee," I stop him. "What are you _doing_?"

"It's perfect, Katie. A radio show; it's right up my alley! It'd air on a secret station with secret passwords. We'd all use code names and keep changing locations. It'd be a radio station broadcasting nothing but the truth. Fred's even come up with a name: Potterwatch!" Of course Fred knows about this.

"Potterwatch?"

"Yeah; it'd keep track of Harry—give the people hope, you know? I really want to do this."

"I think it's a great idea," I finally concede. "As long as you're safe—I don't want you winding up dead."

"Nah, I really feel good about this. I'd have to go into hiding—it'd be stupid of me to think that they wouldn't guess who I am—but things wouldn't really change that much. Different Order members have agreed to let me stay with them for periods of time. I'll even be staying with Fred and George for a while!"

"Hiding?" I choke out, not liking the taste of the word in my mouth.

"It's not that bad, honestly. Plus, even if I didn't do this, I'd still have to go into hiding after my scene at the station today. I kind of got on the air and announced to the general public that muggleborns kick arse and Voldemort's a dick." I flinch slightly at the name, but Lee doesn't call me on it.

"You can stay here too, you know," I offer after letting everything sink in. "They'd never guess and I want to help.

"Thanks, Katie, but no thanks. I don't want to put you in more danger than you have to be. Please don't argue."

"I'm sick of people telling me that," I mutter. Surprisingly, Lee lets out a resounding laugh and embraces me tightly.

"It's for your own good, you know?" he says, letting go of me. "So what's up with you? You didn't look too happy when you came in."

I roll my eyes. "Fred walked in on Charlie and me and it wasn't an overall pleasant experience."

"Bad luck there."

"Tell me about it."

We keep talking late into the night about his plans for Potterwatch and my escapades at the wedding, until I can barely hold my eyes open any longer.

"It's getting late, Lee. You should probably go," I say through a yawn.

"I know," he says, looking down at his watch, "but I don't want to leave you here alone. You go on to bed—I'll wait until Angelina or Alicia show up."

Thankful for his selflessness (I know he must be just as tired as me), I climb into my bed and fall asleep thinking of muggleborns and the changes that are coming.

**--**

I'm awoken the next morning to sunlight streaming through my window. I groan and wrap my blanket around my head, trying to stop the penetrating glare of the sunlight. Seeing that it's a hopeless cause, I grudgingly open my eyes.

Looking down at myself, I realize that I'm still in my bridesmaid dress from the night before. Great. Now I have to change clothes. I grab jeans and the nearest T-shirt I can find—Puddlemere United this time—and pull a brush through my hair before heading for the kitchen. Surely Alicia's up by now.

When I arrive at the kitchen, however, it's not Alicia but Lee who's cooking breakfast.

"What are you still doing here?" I mumble, still not completely awake. "Where are Ange and Alicia? Are they okay?"

Lee looks up at me guiltily. "There fine…but…"

"But what?" I ask alarmed. "Why aren't they here?"

"I fell asleep sometime last night before they had come home and when I woke up this morning I freaked because they still weren't here, but before I reached full panic mode your phone rang."

Phone? Oh—phone. I always forget that we own that. The only time I ever use it is to call my Dad, but it does help in emergencies. Much faster than owls.

"Angelina and Alicia are over at the twins'," Lee continues. "Fred got into a little scrap last night but he's fine."

"What kind of scrap?" I ask quickly. "With who? Not Charlie, is it? That was really my fault—I told him that!"

"No, nothing like that," Lee says, looking me in the eyes somberly. "He was being an idiot and decided he wanted to walk home alone without telling anyone—ran into some of Voldemort's supporters in Diagon Alley and apparently decided that he could take them single-handedly."

"Is he okay?" I demand.

"Yeah, he's fine. Angelina and George showed up before they could do him any real damage and they ran. Obviously none of them were very high ranking with Voldemort because if they were, Fred would either be dead or in Azkaban right now."

"Or he's being watched and they're bidding heir time," I argue.

"Always possible," Lee mutters. "But either way, I don't think it's a good idea for me to stay there like I'd originally planned."

"I told you already, Lee. You can stay here."

"And I told you already: No, I can't. I've made other arrangements, but I have to be there in like an hour."

"You mean you're leaving?" I ask after giving the information enough time to sink in.

"Yeah. I'm sorry, Katie. I though that I'd have longer to say goodbye, but I kind of need to get going."

"But where—"

"I can't tell you. I'm sorry—you know I trust you, it's just…I don't want to endanger them more than I have to. But I'll write and you can hear me about once a week on Potterwatch."

"You're seriously going to go through with this?"

"It's what I need to do. Goodbye, Katie," he says, wrapping his arms around me.

"Goodbye, Lee," I whisper, suddenly filled with an overwhelming sense of sadness because now that Lee's not around everyday, there's no telling how I'm going to know that he's safe.

**--**

I Apparate to the shop rather than the Weasley's actual flat for the sole reason of being able to glance out of their front window. Let's see just how much trouble Fred's gotten us all into…

I look up and down Diagon Alley, but see no one watching. Maybe they figured Fred was just too weak to bother with after all. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my emotions. I'm still mad at Fred about the whole Charlie thing, but I think I'm probably even more angered by the fact that he put himself in danger for no reason last night.

I slide over the Weasley's counter in order to get to the door to their flat behind it, but in the act of doing so my purse falls to the floor, scattering its contents. Grumbling at my own clumsiness, I bend down to retrieve my belongings. I'm so blinded by rage and aggravation that I almost don't notice a box under the counter labeled 'Not for Sale.' Curious, I pull the box to me.

My breath catches as I look at the items inside: over a dozen leather letter pouches just like the one Oliver has. The one that won't send letters to me.

Enraged beyond belief, I grab one for proof and storm up the stairs. I come to a stop in the living area where Angelina is gently rubbing Essence of Murtlap to Fred's wounds with a stern grimace upon her face. At least I'm not the only one mad at him.

Upon noticing me, Fred leaps to his feet.

"Katie, listen—"

"Save it," I interrupt harshly. "George!" I call. George quickly emerges form the next room with Alicia and I throw the pouch to him. He catches it warily before looking over to his twin. "What is that?" I ask him, keeping my eyes on Fred.

"Just a product we were testing," George answers with a shrug. "It's a mail pouch. Fred or I could charm a name onto the inside and the pouch will make all letters to that person disappear. We never put them for sale though. Figured it was too dangerous with Voldemort back. Why do you want to know?"

"How could you!" I yell at Fred and both Angelina and George flinch. It's not often that the two of us argue over anything. "Are you _that_ determined to make me miserable?"

"Katie…"

"No, don't even talk to me! I've already told you that I can kind of understand your anger over the whole Charlie thing. He's your brother and you were worried about me—that's fine…ish. But Oliver? You really didn't have a right to go there Fred! I can take care of myself!"

"What's going on?" George asks.

"Well, it didn't do much good anyway," Fred ignores him, "Because he still figured out a way to contact you."

"Fred!"

"Katie, come on. I was just trying to protect you!"

"You were not! You were trying to keep Oliver out of your own damn life. Do you really think I'd even go there again? I'm not that stupid—and he has a bloody girlfriend."

"Katie…"

"And what the hell were you thinking last night?" I keep on. "You could have been killed! You don't just go around picking fights with Death Eaters."

"I hardly think they were Death Eaters."

"Fred!"

"Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking last night, okay? I can't remember anything—I had too much to drink." I groan in frustration.

"That's just your problem," Angelina says calmly from the couch, surprising me. "You don't think. You could have died. Do you know how scared I was when I saw those guys on you last night? You're too brash and it's going to be the death of you. And I don't know if I can handle it if you die."

"Ange…" Fred says.

"No, don't," Angelina says, getting up from the couch. "I just can't be here right now. I'll talk to you later." She gets up and heads for the door and, unsurprisingly, Fred rushes after her.

"Fred sent Oliver one of those letter pouches?" George asks, glancing at the door.

"Yeah."

"Katie, I'm sorry…"

"Don't be," I answer and follow Fred out. By the time I make it to the street, it's obvious that they're both gone. Without thinking about the ramifications, I head to Oliver's.

I knock on his door without preparing anything to say and wait a few seconds before knocking again. Someone has to be home, right? Ben or Oliver? Charlie's probably already left, but…

To my surprise, the face of Charlie Weasley appears at the window and I feel my cheeks blushing red. The door opens quickly and I walk in. We both stand there awkwardly.

"Katie," he starts, but doesn't seem to know how to go any further.

"It's okay, everything's okay," I say.

"I wasn't going to apologize, actually. Not unless you want me too." I can't help but smile at that.

"No, I don't want you to apologize."

"Good. Listen, I am sorry about the whole situation—I should have handled it better—but you do need to know that I like you. I wasn't using you like Fred seems to think, I swear."

"I know you weren't," I reply, running my hands through my hair in nervousness. "But I do have one question. How did you know about Oliver and me?"

"Ben told me," Charlie answers, "right after I got here. He thought it was funny and I did too. I swear that fact didn't affect the way I looked at you. When he walked in last night, Oliver started yelling at me because he thought I was trying to sleep with you because I thought you were easy; that thought never crossed my mind. I'm not an idiot, Katie."

"I know you're not," I answer and before I can stop myself, I hug him. He laughs and hugs me back before placing a gentle kiss on my lips.

"Would you get mad if I said I wish we'd gotten farther last night?" he asks with a smirk as he pulls away.

"Not at all," I answer with a laugh.

"Charlie, who the hell are you talking to? Who was at the door?" I hear the angry voice of Oliver call from the next room.

"Yeah, he's still pretty mad at me. You can just slip back out if you don't want to deal with him right now."

"I know this sounds bad," I say, "but I actually didn't come here to talk to you—I thought you'd be back in Romania right now."

"Eh, well I got a bit delayed."

"Why? What's—?"

"Charlie, who…?" Oliver's exclamation dies in his throat as he comes into the foyer and sees me. Following close behind him is his dog, Bludger, who immediately jumps at the sight of me. He rushes past Oliver and leaps at me. It's Charlie who pulls him down since Oliver's still staring at me warily. "Now's really not a good time, Katie. If you and Charlie want to go snog before he goes back to Romania, do it at your place."

"I actually came to talk to you, thank you very much," I retort. "But if you'd rather I go off and snog Charlie, then—"

"She's fine, Oliver," Ben says, coming into the room "Can we just all get out of the doorway?" he asks, throwing a wary glance at the door.

"Why? What's going on?" I ask as we all relocate to the living room. Mallory's sitting on the couch with her knees pulled up to her chin. I take to seat next to her and Bludger takes the one next to me. I pet his ears as the guys all exchange glances.

"Does this have to do with the whole muggleborn thing?" I ask once no one deems it necessary to inform me of the situation.

"I'm muggleborn," Ben finally says and I feel as if the breath has been knocked out of me.

"Oh God," I mutter, "but it's not the end of the world, right? I mean, there are things you can do to avoid capture. Lee just went into hiding…isn't that a possibility?"

"See!" Oliver exclaims to my surprise. "She's almost four years younger than you and she understands that fact."

"Thank you for insulting my intelligence," I can't help but say. Oliver brushes that off with a wave of his hand.

"I just don't want to go into hiding. I couldn't play Quidditch, I couldn't—"

"Ben," Mallory says, "you're not going to be able to do any of that stuff anyway. Things are changing."

"And not for the better," Oliver finishes. "Listen, we could make this work."

"How the hell do you plan on making this work?" Ben cries angrily. "If they catch me here, both of us are dead."

"No, we're not. It's complicated, but I'm from a powerful pureblood family that hasn't openly declared allegiance to either side. If they catch you here, they'll believe whatever I tell them."

"Surely it doesn't work like that," I say doubtfully.

"It shouldn't, but it does," Charlie answers. "They ignore my family since we're 'blood traitors' but families like the Longbottom's are still being asked to join He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Even though he knows that they're working for the Order, they wouldn't kill Neville or any of the other Longbottoms before making sure that they weren't willing to switch sides first."

"Blood guarantees a second chance now days. My grandparents are important—they won't do anything that will upset them." Oliver says. "But it doesn't even matter because they won't find you here. The house has always been in my name and there's no record of you living here at all. I've got every protective spell, jinx, hex, and charm known to wizard-kind on the building. You're safe here."

"I just don't like the idea."

"It's better than Azkaban," Mallory mutters.

"And you're sure?" Ben asks.

"I insist on it. And you can still see Mallory…nothing much will change, honestly. After this, I doubt Quidditch will last much longer anyway."

"Well then…thank you."

"It's not a problem," Oliver laughs.

"Well, good luck, mate," Charlie says getting up from his chair. "But I've got to be getting back before I lose my job." Everyone says their goodbyes and then he stops in front of me. "I'll write," he promises.

"Fred told you not to," I point out.

"I'll write," he promises again and I can't help but laugh. He waves at me once more before Disapparating and leaving me sitting awkwardly in a room with Oliver, Ben, and Mallory; all of them staring at me.

"What?"

"Is he a good kisser?" Mallory asks and Ben and I both stare at her shocked. "What? I was just wondering!"

"Um…yeah," I answer.

"I figured—stop looking at me like that, Ben. If you're allowed to go to a strip club, then I'm allowed to ask if someone's a good kisser."

"You're impossible, you know that," Ben says with a laugh.

"So, what did you need, Katie?" Oliver asks, coming over to me.

"I just needed to talk to you about that letter pouch," I say, also getting up.

"Okay, well then follow me." I do and he leads me down the hallway and into his room (or at least I'm assuming it's his room). Bludger follows us. "Sorry, I have Quidditch practice in five minutes," he says as he begins rummaging through drawers.

"I figured out who gave you the pouch," I say as he disappears into his bathroom.

"Was it Fred?" he asks menacingly.

"How did you know that?"

"Good guess. And I remembered about a fortnight ago that I'd received it as an anonymous gift right after we broke up."

"I'm sorry. Fred's just…"

"Difficult?" he asks, reappearing in a T-shirt and shorts.

"I was going to say idiotic. He picked a fight with a couple of You-Know-Who's supporters last night."

"You still won't say the name," Oliver notes. "Well, is he okay?"

"He's fine—doesn't remember a thing. Too much alcohol."

"Well, that's always a plus."

"Yeah. Listen, if you have to get going, I'll just leave."

"Okay, but promise me you won't say anything about Ben staying here to anyone. I trust you, but I don't want word to get out."

"I understand. Of course I won't say anything."

"Thanks," he says as we head towards his front door. Ben and Mallory are nowhere in sight…probably in his room. "And Katie?"

"Yeah?"

"You're wearing my shirt." I look down at my Puddlemere United shirt in shock and try to remember where I'd gotten it from. Surely I'd remember if Oliver had given it to me. "It's not a problem; I just didn't know you still had some of my stuff."

"I didn't either," I answer still looking at the shirt.

"It was from Fred and George's. That time at the lake." And suddenly I remember. I'd forgotten an extra change of clothes and Oliver let me cover up in his T-shirt. And I kept it because I wasn't sure how much longer we'd last and I always wanted a piece of him with me.

And when we broke up, I hid it at the bottom of my drawer and must have forgotten all about it.

"Bye, Oliver," I say after a while and head out the door.

"Katie, wait!" he calls as I'm already heading down his steps. "Can you meet me at that club down the street, the Fairy's Wing, Tuesday night?"

"Um…"

"Please?"

"Yeah, sure." He gives me one last smile before shutting the door behind me and I walk to my own flat, feeling more lost than ever.

**--**

**Long chapter, huh? Anyway, I just wanted to let everyone know that this story is looking to be much longer than Love and Quidditch. At least twice as long…hope that doesn't bother anyone…**

_Next time on _Love and War_: A "date" with Oliver and an encounter with Yaxley. _

**Review, please! My birthday is next Friday and I probably won't get a chance to update before then, so do it as a present for me.**


	12. The Fairy's Wing

**A/N: Okay, so a special thanks to AnotherHPF for informing me of my little mistake in the last chapter. I'd written both Lee and Oliver saying Voldemort's name when it was definitely jinxed by this point in time. I would go back and change it, but it's a minor detail and in my opinion there must have been some protective spell that would allow you to use the name within your own home. In this story they are using such a spell, although I'll try not to make that mistake again. I just figured you'd want me to get this next chapter out rather than taking the time to fix the last one.**

**Thanks to everyone who wished me a Happy Birthday…it was definitely a good one. And a happy belated birthday to you, AnotherHPF. In your honor, I give you this chapter. Happy Birthday!**

**And sorry for the delay on this. I've once again been out of town. So without further ado…**

_The Fairy's Wing:_

Surprisingly, the last thing Malcolm ever did for me by far made up for all of the fidgety-ness I've had to put up with for the past few months. I stepped into his office at the _Daily Prophet_ with a perfectly rehearsed story in my head. I 'd taken Lee's advice and was ready to quit. Of course, it didn't help memorization that two "Ministry-Approved" officials flanked my editor on either side.

My well-rehearsed words disappeared in a matter of seconds, but Malcolm took one look at me and gave me a miserable smile. He understood what I was trying to do.

"Thank you for coming, Miss Bell. I trust you got my memo?" He lies surprisingly well, without a twitch to give him away.

"Um…yeah."

"I hate to call you here with such somber news, but the times are changing. The International Quidditch Board has put the regular season on hold now that this muggleborn roundup has started…it seems that we've become overstaffed suddenly. I'm very sorry, Katie, but we're going to have to let you go."

I'm sure the look of shock on my face looked genuine because it was—just not for the reason it was supposed to be. I wanted to hug Malcolm, but I walked out without a word.

So now I'm unemployed. It'd be quite brilliant, actually, if it weren't for the fact that now I have no way to earn money. I guess it's time to crack open my savings account at Gringotts. Well, it was my mother's, but same thing.

And surprisingly my loss of job isn't the only thing I'm stressing over. Seriously, it's like I'm back in my fourth year again, pining over Oliver at all hours of the day. I'm still convinced that the only reason I'm even interested in him now is because he has a girlfriend. Attain the unattainable, you know?

Okay, so that theory's a work in progress…

But aren't guys supposed to be easier to understand than this? I always thought that girls were supposed to have the upper hand in understanding the opposite sex, but not for the first time I'm left feeling as if the Great God Almighty forgot to put the finishing touches on me.

I'm defective; I know it…

But Angelina's not!

I hop up from my spot in the couch and rush to Angelina's room. I'm rather shocked that I didn't think of her immediately, but I'm honestly not used to her being here. She's normally either at practice or at Fred's and since Quidditch is postponed indefinitely and she's still not talking to Fred…

"Ange," I say sweetly, peeking my head around her doorframe. "I have a hypothetical situation for you."

"How hypothetical are we talking?" she asks with a smirk

"Not very," I admit, sitting down on her bed.

"Well then, I'm willing to help."

"So, there's this guy—"

"Hypothetically, of course."

"Of course," I agree with a laugh. "And this guy asked me to meet him at a club tomorrow—"

"What kind of club?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes actually, it does."

"It's pretty up-scale," I admit grudgingly. Not terribly fancy—there aren't that many 'fancy' clubs, but it's not bad. Frequented by a bunch of Quidditch stars.

"Okay, continue," she says after allowing herself time to form a mental picture.

"But this guy has a girlfriend and I can't figure out for the life of me why he wants to meet."

"Oh, so we're talking about Oliver here?"

"No! This is hypothetical," I joke.

"Katie…"

"I just don't understand! I mean, it can't be a real date but then what does he want from me?"

"Sex?"

"Angelina—not funny!"

"God, I was just kidding. Listen, Katie, my advice to you would be to just put on the sexiest dress you own and torture the poor guy a bit. You'll get a few free drinks out of it, anyway."

"Good plan except I don't own anything worth a free drink," I retort.

"Fine—new plan. You'll put on the sexiest dress _I_ own." As if waiting to be asked, she springs up from her bed and heads to her closet. She re-emerges seconds later carrying a strapless navy mini-dress.

"I can't wear that," I argue as she holds it out for me.

"Sure you can. It doesn't even fit me; it's Alicia's but she doesn't really have the breasts to hold it up—you do."

I roll my eyes, but take the dress nonetheless.

--

The next night I'm forced to sneak out of my own house in order to avoid the taunting that I would be forced to endure if Angelina caught me in this damn dress. As soon as I'm far enough down the street to Disapparate without muggles seeing me and Angelina hearing me, I do.

The Fairy's Wing is already pretty crowded by the time I get there. Oliver didn't give me an exact time, so it's about ten right now. What? I wanted to keep him waiting.

There's a bouncer at the door, but he lets me through without a second glance. I guess boobs do come in handy every so often. I step into the club and am immediately overwhelmed by the intensity of the music.

It's pretty packed, but not claustrophobically so. Even better, the majority of the occupants are muscular Quidditch players from all over Britain. Forget alcohol; I could get drunk just looking at these guys. Of course, almost all of them have some blonde chick attached to their arms.

I quickly glance at the dance floor and all of the tables in the vicinity. Not seeing Oliver, I head to the bar.

"Firewhiskey," I shout over the music and the barkeep pops the top off of one. I take a large gulp and wince as it burns my throat on the way down. I scan the bar and notice Oliver watching the door at the far end. Grudgingly, I hop up and head towards him.

I really don't know what to expect from tonight, but I do know Oliver well enough that I'm pretty sure this isn't going to be the best night for either of us.

"Hey," I greet, sitting down next to him and watching as he jumps. I can't help but smirk.

"When did _you_ get here?" he asks, turning to me and noticing the drink in my hand.

"About five minutes ago," I answer with a shrug taking a sip of my drink. "Been waiting long?"

"What?" he asks distractedly, probably still wondering how I squeezed through the door without him noticing. "Oh—no, not really."

"Good," I mutter. "So what the hell am I doing here?" He doesn't answer, but continues to stare off at the crowd and I'm not even sure that he heard the question. "Oliver? Oliver! Are you listening to me?" His head snaps to me at the sound of his name.

"What?" he asks. I close my eyes in frustration.

"Why the hell am I here, Wood?" I ask harshly and his face noticeably pales. What is he avoiding?

"Listen Katie, we need to talk." I raise my eyebrows expectantly, but Oliver doesn't make a move to start the conversation. He scans the crowded bar and seems to realize that the chances of having a private conversation are nonexistent. "Come on," he says and I follow him to an empty table at the other side of the room. We both take a seat and I wait patiently, but he still doesn't open his mouth.

"Oliver, come on, I don't have all night. What do you need to talk to me about?"

"Things are awkward between us right now, Katie, and I just…"

"Just what?" I prompt.

"I think we need to work some things out."

"What things? You kissed me, you had a girlfriend; end of story. This isn't my fault."

"That kiss was a mistake."

"A mistake?" I ask fiercely.

"I don't even know why I let it get that far, I just—"

"A mistake?" I repeat. "I am no mistake, Oliver. You can regret what we did all you want, but you know it wasn't a mistake. You didn't have to kiss me."

"Katie, come on…"

"No! You wouldn't have kissed me if you didn't want to, so don't go blaming this whole thing on me."

"That's not what I'm doing, I swear," he groans, immensely frustrated. "But it doesn't change the fact that it shouldn't have happened. I'm in a good place right now with Jai and I just…I need to make sure that me and you are good, Katie."

"Okay, excuse me for not understanding what in the world you're getting at."

"I'll admit that when you walked into my house for that interview, I really just wanted to see if things would work out between us again. Everything I said to you while we were dating, I meant. But I've thought a lot about it, and those feelings are gone. I'm in love with Jai, and—"

"You don't think we should see each other?" I finish for him.

"That's not it. I just think that you need to understand that I'm with Jai now, and—"

"_I _need to understand!" I yell. "Oliver, what the hell are you getting at? I haven't done anything since I found out you were going out with Jai. I'm over you, you arse. This isn't about me, it's about you. Just because _you're _not over me, it doesn't mean _I'm _not over you!"

"I am too over you!"

"Okay then, what's the problem?"

He doesn't get to answer because at that moment a curvy blonde walks up carrying a drink in her hand. I'm about to tell her to back off, thinking she's about to start fawning over Oliver, when I notice that she works here.

"I didn't ask for another drink," I say as she comes to a stop in front of me.

"Oh, it's already paid for. Those two men over there told me to give you the drink…and their names."

I look at the two men and smile at them slightly before taking the drink. Oliver rolls his eyes but doesn't turn around. "I already know their names," I tell her because I do in fact recognize the two professional Quidditch players. I turn back to Oliver with a smirk I can't stop on my face.

"What do you want from me?" I ask, much calmer after the interruption.

"I—I don't even know, Katie. I'd practiced what I was going to say, but now I can't even remember. But you don't understand how sorry I am. I was having a fight with Jai at the time and I never should have kissed you. It wasn't fair to either of you."

"Apology accepted," I finally admit. "And just for the record, if I'd known you had a girlfriend, I wouldn't have touched you."

"Friends?"

"We can try…I don't know how well it'll work, but we can try."

"Thanks. I just don't want to lose you completely. You were a big part of my life, Katie, and just because it's over between us, doesn't mean anything." That's what he thinks…

"Can I ask you a question, Oliver? Why do you care so much? I mean, I'm not going to tell Jai anything—about anything—but even if I did…you could find another girl so easily. A girl better than her. You even admitted that she's cheated on you! I just don't understand."

"I cheated on her too, Katie. With you. Does that make me a bad person?" Well…

"I just don't understand. I mean, why her?"

"Because I love her," he answers simply. Possibly the worst thing you can say to an ex-girlfriend. "Honestly…I asked you here to tell you that—that I'm going to ask her to marry me. And I just wanted you to know." Okay, I lied. _That's_ the worst thing that you can say to an ex-girlfriend.

My heart stops in my chest and I'm sure that my mouth is agape.

"Um…brilliant," I choke out and he has the decency not to call my bluff.

Suddenly the music and the crowd feel less than uncomfortable. I can almost sense the room closing in on me and all I know is that I have to get out. Now.

"I've got to go," I say quickly and turn to leave. Before I go, I can't help but turn around one more time. "And tell your teammates I'm not interested." I head for the door as Oliver looks behind him to the two guys who'd sent me a drink. Two of Puddlemere's Chasers. Not really caring about Puddlemere's team dynamic, I rush out of the Fairy's Wing before anyone can notice I'm gone.

Even though I know it's not the smartest thing to do, I head straight down Diagon Alley. Screw You-Know-Who _and_ his Death Eaters. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

The street's thankfully empty, so very unlike during my school days, but I'm glad. I breath in the London air as I remove my heels. I walk in silence, not even allowing myself to listen to my own thoughts, and soon come to a stop in front of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

Cursing my feet and their choice of venue, I take a seat on the curb. I'm a lone wanderer with nowhere to go. I mean, I'm still mad at Fred. Not sure if he realizes it though; I'm starting to think that we have one-sided conversations often.

After a few minutes of sitting alone, wallowing in my own misery and jumping at every sound, I start to question the validity of my anger. Throwing all arguments to the wind, I pick a pebble up off of the ground and aim it at Fred's window. It hits (I've still got some Chaser skills in me) and wait a few seconds before launching a second rock. Fred's face appears at the window and when he spots me, he quickly heads down. The door to his shop opens and he walks towards me.

"What's up?" he asks. "I thought you weren't talking to me." So he _had_ noticed…

"I just don't want to be alone right now," I mutter.

"If you say so," he says and, without question, wraps his arm around me and begins leading me down the street.

"I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to you," I say, snuggling deeper into the warmth of his arms.

"You haven't," he assures me.

"Where are we going?"

"Not sure. Do you want a drink?"

"I've already had two…"

"No offense, but you look like you could use another." I don't even bother arguing as we approach the Leaky Cauldron.

As we enter and take seats, I slowly begin to relax. This is the one place that hasn't changed that much since the first time I entered it when I was eleven years old. Sure, it's full of shady characters, but it was like that even before You-Know-Who came back. And they won't bother you unless you bother them.

"Here you go," Fred says, coming back to the table with my drink. I take a sip and instead of the Firewhiskey I'd expected, I taste Butterbeer. I don't complain. Fred takes a swig of his own and looks at me curiously. "So, do you want to talk about it?"

"Yeah," I answer after a while. "But you won't want to hear it." He just remains silent. "Oliver's getting married," I finally say and annoyance floods Fred's face. This is why I went to him; I need someone to knock some sense into myself.

"Katie, I'm begging you, please don't do this to yourself. I've told you before, but he's not worth it."

"I mean, it's not official," I continue, not listening to Fred's reasoning at all. "But he _is_ going to ask. And sure, I knew it was going to happen eventually, but he could do so much better than her!"

"Better like you?"

"No," I finally answer. "I don't deserve him either." The emotions on Fred's face morph from anger to compassion and he scoots his chair over so that he can give me a hug.

"Don't say that. The little git would be lucky to have you."

"It's just not fair sometimes," I mutter, feeling tears sting my eyes. "I mean, you have he biggest family on the face of the Earth and they all love you very much. You have Angelina even if you _are_ fighting right now. You have the Order to look after you—to feel like you're a part of something. I have nothing."

"Katie—"

"No, think about it. My Dad's in America and I spend everyday wishing he wasn't, but knowing that he has to be. And I miss my Mum. A day doesn't go by that I don't think of her…and it hurts. I just—I just want someone to love me the way you love Angelina. I want to _feel _that feeling."

Fred looks me deep in the eyes in a way that almost makes me feel uncomfortable and wipes the tears from my eyes. "_I_ love you, Katie. And so does Angelina, Alicia, George, and Lee. Whether you want to admit it or not, we _are_ each others family. I would do anything for you and I know that you would do the same for me."

"I love you too, Fred, but it's not the same."

"Don't worry about it, Katie, please. There are plenty of guys out there that would be lucky to have you, even if you don't believe me. And you're not dying in this war, so you don't have to worry about time. It'll happen." I can't help but laugh and I wipe the rest of the tears off of my face.

"God, I must look like a mess," I laugh, staring at the faint traces of mascara on my fingers.

"Only slightly. There's a bathroom around the corner." I gladly follow the direction that he's pointing.

After splashing water onto my face for a few minutes, I return to the main room just in time to see Fred in a heated discussion with the Death Eater from Bill and Fleur's wedding—Yaxley. I rush over.

"What's wrong, Sir?" I ask as pleasantly as possible, remembering his fondness for the title 'Sir.'

"This your girlfriend, Weasley?" Yaxley asks, ignoring me completely. Fred, seeming to know that it's better not to respond, doesn't.

"I'd start cooperating if I were you, Mr. Weasley. Or you might just find that those closest to you seem to disappear." He throws me one last menacing glare before exiting the bar.

"What did you do?" I demand, the minute Yaxley's gone.

"Nothing!" Fred cries. "I swear—I'm not suicidal! He just came up to me and started asking questions about Ron and Harry."

"But Ron's in your attic," I point out, even though I know it's a lie.

"I guess they're starting to doubt that. Come on, let's get out of here." I throw one last glance at the door Yaxley had left through and then follow Fred out.

--

**Once again, sorry for the delay but this time I'm in town for two weeks straight. Next chapter soon.**

**Review, por favor! **


	13. Hiding

--

_Hiding:_

When I wake up the next morning, my head's pounding horribly; that's the first thing I notice before the rest of my senses kick in. The worst part of it is that I know it's not one of those I-had-too-mush-to-drink headaches. No, this is worse. This is one of those permanent headaches you get when you're given bad news; the kind that never seems to go away.

I rub my forehead gently until I become aware of yelling coming from the next room. I listen just long enough to recognize the voices of Angelina and Fred before tuning them out once again. Maybe they'll both get over themselves and finally work this out this time. Neither of them have been much fun to be around lately.

I groggily get up and walk to my shower, hoping to waste some time before interrupting the couple. I let the warm water wash over me and stay in as long as possible. Even following the 'repeat' instruction on my shampoo bottle, I'm out of the shower within thirty minutes.

Rolling my eyes at my own hopelessness I begin to get dressed, but since I no longer have the sound of pounding water to drown out their argument I'm forced to listen.

"Fred, just shut up for a second! What the hell are we going to do? We don't have much time to think about this—this isn't a game anymore!"

"Do you honestly think I don't know that? I'm bouncing ideas off of you as fast as I can. You could help me, you know."

"Why should I? This isn't _my_ fault."

"Okay, just shut up. I feel bad enough as it is," Fred answers worriedly.

"Why would they do this to her, Fred? It's ridiculous. It's barbaric. It's—"

"I know! But they still think I'm going out with her and…Well, this Death Eater kind of cornered me last night. It might have something to do with that."

"A—Did you just say a _Death Eater_? I swear, Fred. This is getting dangerous. You know that they're going to keep getting more persistent. Maybe you and George need to—"

"Angelina, can we please not talk about _me_ right now. I think this Katie-thing is enough to deal with for one day."

Katie-thing? What the hell? I quickly put on a sweatshirt and shorts just as a knock sounds on our door. The two get quiet and, almost as an instinct, I don't make a sound but instead freeze with my hand on the doorknob.

"Great, just what I need," I hear Fred mutter as he opens the door.

"Where is she?" I hear a familiar voice ask. Oliver. I open my door and rush into the living room.

"What the hell is going on? I ask as all three of them stand frozen. "I know you're talking about me. What's wrong?" My heart begins to race as I take in the looks on their faces. Oh, this is not going to be good.

"She doesn't know?" Oliver blames Fred.

"She sleeps until noon!" Fred defends himself.

"Well, I'm awake now. What—is—wrong?" Noticing that both Fred and Oliver are clutching copies of _The Daily Prophet_, I reach out and grab the one out of Oliver's hands. He's less likely to fight back. I read the title with bated breath:

"Muggleborn No-Shows—Those Still on the Loose."

I almost laugh in relief as I begin scanning the long list of names. "You lot have nothing to worry about. My mum was a witch; I—" I'm cut off as an all too familiar name catches my eye.

Katherine Bell.

"What!" I cry, shocked. "I'm not a muggleborn—this must be some kind of a mistake!"

"I don't think that it's a mistake," Fred finally says. "I think they're using you to get information out of me, Katie."

"Yaxley," I mutter, recalling his words from the night before. Fred just nods.

I close my eyes in frustration and think about our previous encounter and Yaxley's parting words.

_Or you might just find that those closest to you seem to disappear._

"Oh God," I sigh and feel my knees getting weak. Angelina steadies me on my feet and leads me to the couch.

"Katie, honey, it's okay. You're going to be fine."

"Yeah Kates," Fred agrees. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you."

"But I'm not muggleborn," I repeat helplessly. "Surely there's some way to prove that."

"Your only magical relative is your mum and she's—"

"Dead?" I finish for him. "But surely they have records or…"

"The records at the Ministry aren't going to be much good," Oliver cuts in. "Not with Thicknesse as Minister. If they're really doing this to get information out of Fred, they're not just going to go hunt for records. St. Mungo's, on the other hand—"

"I wasn't born in St. Mungo's," I groan. "I was born in a muggle hospital."

"It's okay," Angelina soothes me. "Fred mentioned the Fidelius Charm—"

"That's stupid," Oliver interrupts. "Ben's already staying with me and they wouldn't dare search my—"

"Of course they wouldn't, Mr. Pureblood," Fred scoffs.

"Hey! You know I'm not like that, but while I have this advantage we might as well take it. You need to think about what's best for Katie, not focus on the fact that _I_ can help her and _you_ can't!"

"Do you think that the Ministry's just going to sit back while you horde muggleborns in your flat? One, maybe—especially since he's an internationally famous Quidditch player and it would cause too much ruckus to bring him in—but two's pushing your luck!"

"He's got a point," I mutter, head in my hands. "Fred, I mean. Ben and me _would_ be pushing it. Plus, I'd be putting Ben in danger and I don't want to do that." Oliver slowly nods his understanding.

"Ange, did you owl Alicia? She needs to get home as soon as possible," Fred asks.

"Yeah, she's on her way. George too."

"What about Lee?" I ask hopefully, lifting my head. "Could I stay with him?"

"Maybe," Fred groans. "But we can't get in touch with him and we kind of need to act fast."

"We can't do the Fidelius Charm!" I say stubbornly. "I'm not going to put Angelina and Alicia through that."

"Don't be stupid!" Angelina cries. "They know that you live here, Katie. If we _don't_ go under the Fidelius Charm then Alicia and I are in danger. So whether _you_ stay or not, this flat is going under the Fidelius Charm."

"It's not as bad as you're imagining it," Fred insists. "The Burrow's been under the Fidelius for weeks. As long as the Charm's on a place not a person, the residents can come and go as they wish. Well, Angelina and Alicia could come and go—I think it would probably be better if you stayed put."

"I'm going to be trapped! This sucks!"

"It's just for a little while," Oliver starts.

"No offense," I interrupt, "but why are you even here?"

"I was worried about you," he answers casually. I just shrug.

"This is ridiculous," I mutter again.

"Everything's going to work out fine," Angelina says with a smile.

"Yeah, for you maybe. Listen, I can't deal with this right now. I'm going back to bed."

And not caring what they think of me, I crawl back into my cozy bed and close my eyes, trying not to think of anything.

**--**

Sleep doesn't come (as I anticipated that it wouldn't), so I have no choice but to try and work through my options. I could always just slip out of the house right now and go on the run like Lee. That may be suicidal, but I hate the idea of trapping Angelina and Alicia here with me.

This wasn't supposed to happen to me! If there was one thing I was sure of in this War, it was the fact that I would never be sent to Azkaban because I was a muggleborn. And look at how wrong I was.

God, I could kill Fred! This is all his damn fault.

Well, actually it's not and I shouldn't even think things like that. His family's working to defeat You-Know-Who and here I am complaining because their efforts are causing me to go into hiding. I mean if you think about it, this really isn't the worst thing that could happen.

Several hours pass and I'm actually surprised that they've left me alone for this long. No one has even check on me which, although I'm grateful, seems kind of dangerous. In fact, the only change in those assembled in the next room is that George and Alicia's voices have joined the mix.

As daylight begins to disappear, I figure that I might as well join them considering it's _my_ safety that they're discussing. I enter the kitchen warily and five pair of eyes immediately meet mine.

Hm, Oliver didn't leave.

"Are you okay?" Alicia finally asks, breaking the silence.

"I don't really know," I admit. No one makes any move to fill me in on what's been going on. My guess would be that they are all waiting for me to break down at any moment. "So, the Fidelius Charm, huh?"

"We've worked it all out," Fred cuts in energetically, obviously happy that I've warmed up to the idea.

"We're just trying to decide on a Secret-Keeper," Angelina adds miserably.

"Is it safe to do that in a large group of people?" I ask. It's not that I don't trust everyone present, but Oliver does have a bitchy girlfriend.

"Everyone here would have to know the location of this flat anyway," Alicia explains smartly.

"Except for Oliver," Fred says and by the ensuing groans, I realize that this probably isn't the first time that this argument has presented itself.

"No, he's fine," I say against my better judgment and take an empty seat at the table. "As long as he doesn't tell anyone what we talk about—even Jaiden," I add threateningly.

"I'm not stupid," he answers harshly. I decide to let the subject drop.

"Well, wouldn't it be logical for me to be Secret-Keeper?" I ask. "I mean, I'll be in hiding anyway."

"Which presents a problem when other people need to know the location. Plus, the spell is supposed to be stronger if the secret's kept in an outside individual. If we take that knowledge to be true, it also eliminates Angelina and Alicia," Fred explains.

"And Fred can't do it," Angelina interjects.

"Yes I can!"

"No you can't," George says sternly. "You're the reason we're in this situation at all. They're going to assume you're Secret-Keeper and then we're all fucked."

"And it's kind of the same deal with George," Alicia adds. "He's too obvious."

"I wouldn't be if I didn't have a big-mouthed twin brother…"

"Hey! This time it was not my fault!"

"Yeah, George, just leave him alone," Angelina groans and I can't help but notice the grin that spreads across Fred's face.

"So who does that leave?" I ask warily, throwing a glance at Oliver.

"I'm the perfect choice!" he argues against my unsaid doubts. "They wouldn't suspect me and even if they did, they wouldn't try to get it out of me. I know you're sick of me playing the Grandparents card, but it's the truth. They're not going to bother me."

But you're dating Jai...

"I know that you don't trust me, Katie," he continues, "especially after last night but you have to believe that I would _never_ do _anything_ to hurt you. You know me well enough to know that."

"We also considered Lee," George adds.

"But," Angelina says bitterly, "we can't exactly find him right now."

"And Dad just sent an owl saying that they are sending Death Eaters out here tomorrow," Fred says. I close my eyes in frustration.

"Oliver," I say slowly, keeping my eyes closed. "If we were to use you as Secret-Keeper—"

"I'd only tell the people in this room," he interrupts me. "And Lee if you want. And maybe Leanne. No one else really has a reason to know, right? Katie, listen to me. You know that this is a good idea. If Jai's what's stopping you, you don't have to worry. If it was a choice between keeping you alive and marrying Jai, I'd pick you any day."

"I vote for Oliver," I finally say, opening my eyes.

"Me too," Angelina and Alicia say together.

George looks pleadingly at Alicia, obviously begging her not to make him pick sides. She widens her eyes expectantly.

"Whatever," George finally says. Fred nods grudgingly.

"But if _anything_ happens to _any_ of them, I'm going to kill you personally," Fred threatens.

"Deal," Oliver agrees stoically.

"So you do actually know how to perform the Charm, right?" Fred asks.

"Considering I got nearly half a dozen more owls that you, yeah I think I know what I'm doing."

"Seriously, can you two please stop arguing?" George begs, rubbing his forehead in frustration. "This isn't easy for any of us and you're only making it worse."

"Sorry," they both mutter.

"We probably need to go ahead and do it," I say after a while. I might be unwilling to admit aloud that I'm scared out of my wits, but I am.

"She's right," Oliver says and the two of us stand back as the two couples say goodbye. One good thing seems to have come out of this—Angelina and Fred are back to their usual selves. I guess she just couldn't stand being mad at him at a time like this.

I hug Fred and George tightly, wondering when I'll next be able to see them. How long am I going to have to stay in hiding like this? Until the war ends?

"Everything's going to be okay, Katie," Fred whispers in my ear when he finally lets me go. "And as much as I hate to admit it, I trust Oliver." I just nod mutely as the two boys leave the flat.

"So, how does this thing work?" Angelina asks as soon as they're out of the house.

"It's basically just a series of charms meant to protect the house. You lot just stay in here and I'll do what I have to do."

"Have you ever done this before?" Alicia asks as he's preparing to leave the room.

"No," Oliver admits sheepishly. "But I know the theory. Just stay here."

I don't know how long Oliver walks around our house, whispering spells and enchantments at every corner, but I do get the feeling that most of what he's doing has nothing to do with the Fidelius Charm. When curiosity finally overwhelms me, I can't help but rise from my spot on the couch and follow Oliver around for a few minutes.

"What are you doing?" I finally ask.

"Just adding some protective spells to the place that you seem to have missed."

"Well, you've been doing it for a while now…"

"My Dad showed me a ton of them—most of which I think my great-grandfather invented. It's what I use to protect my flat."

"But if your grandparents keep the Death Eaters away…"

"My grandparents also bring them to me. Sooner or later, they're going to try to recruit me and then I'm going to either have to join or die. I really don't want to have to make that decision," he explains.

"Hence the spells."

"Hence the spells," he agrees.

"I guess Ben really is safe," I muse.

"He is. He's my cousin, by the way. My grandmother tweaked her documentation a bit."

"She's allowed to do that?"

"It's a pureblood world, Katie. She can do whatever she wants," he says with scorn. "And I think she's getting a little bit too used to it. That's their plan, you know. To warm the powerful families hearts to the idea. I hate to say it, but I think it's working."

"Your grandmother's not a bad person, Oliver," I assure him, even though I've only met the woman once and she scared the living daylights out of me.

"I know that and she doesn't agree with their take on muggleborns, but she's definitely getting comfortable in this new lifestyle."

"I guess times like these aren't easy for anybody."

"Yeah, apparently not." We both stand there awkwardly for a few seconds.

"I guess I'll let you get back to work," I finally say.

"Uh…yeah." I give him a small smile and head back to the living room to wait. It doesn't take Oliver much longer to finish up inside the house.

"I'm going to put the Fidelius Charm on now. You are sure about this, right? Because I really don't know how to remove the spell." We all nod and he excuses himself, exiting through the front door. We wait with bated breath. After about three minutes, it happens.

The walls of our flat start to sparkle as if glitter was being poured down from the ceiling. We watch entranced as our living quarters begin to resemble the night sky. And then, just as fast as it came, the magic is gone.

Oliver walks back through the front door with a broad grin plastered on his face. "It worked," he announces proudly.

"It really did," Alicia says amazed and I can tell that she seriously doubted Oliver's abilities.

"So, I guess I should probably go tell Fred and George where you are before they decide I've run off with the Secret."

"Probably so," I agree with a laugh.

"You mean even though they know where we live, they wouldn't be able to find us now?" Angelina asks, running her fingers along the walls.

"No," Oliver explains. "That's how the spell works. They can know exactly where you are, be standing on your doorstep, and not be able to find you."

"Then why doesn't everybody do it?" I ask. "Like muggleborns? Why do they go on the run instead?"

"Different reasons," Alicia answers. "A lot of them have families and they don't want to mess up their children's lives any more than they already are. Some are still in school and can't perform the spell. But a lot of them do go under the Fidelius Charm."

"And it actually works out perfectly for us," Angelina replies. "I mean, you and I aren't working and Alicia…"

"Alicia what?" I ask worriedly.

"I'm taking a leave of absence form work," Alicia explains. "But they understand. They said they'll take me back whenever I'm ready." I can't help but roll my eyes. Why do people insist on ruining their lives because of me?

"Hey, uh, Katie?" Oliver asks, interrupting our conversation and coming over to me. "Can we talk for a minute?"

"Yeah, of course," I reply and lead him to my bedroom. I may still be mad at him, but with everything that he's doing for me now, I owe him this.

"Are you okay?" he asks when we're finally alone. "I know it's been a really horrible day for you."

"I'm fine right now," I answer honestly. "I don't know how well I'll be in a few days, though—entrapment never has settled very well with me."

"Well, maybe I can set up a play date for you and Ben," he jokes.

"Very funny," I scoff. "Listen, Oliver…thank you, thank you so much."

"Nah, Katie. It's not a problem—honestly. I just feel bad for you, with the timing and everything."

"The timing?"

"I know it's your birthday." Just when I thought he was all out of surprises, he surprises me. I can't help myself; I walk forward and hug him tight.

"How in the world did you remember that?" I ask when I finally pull away.

"Well, when you're dating someone, there are two dates you have to remember: their birthday and your anniversary. I just never forgot."

"Thank you for remembering."

"My pleasure. Wow, nineteen years old. I remember when you walked into Hogwarts at eleven…and joined the team at twelve. You're definitely a great girl, Katie Bell."

"Thanks." He gives me one last hug and then he's gone. And as much as I don't want to think about it, I always figured that Oliver and I would be together when I turned nineteen—and I've never felt farther from him than I do now.

--

**So, I forgot to put a blurb for this chapter on the last one. Sorry.**

_Next time on_ Love and War_: Halloween, Death Eaters, and the Ministry._

**Review, please!**


	14. Halloween

--

_Halloween:_

I didn't think that I was going to make it through those first few days in hiding. In fact, it's a miracle that I did. I just hate this feeling of helplessness—it's torture.

The worst part is that for the first time since Oliver and I broke up, I truly feel lonely because even though I know that my friends are here to help me through this, I also know that they don't have to be. I'm basically just causing them needless suffering here.

Fred and George (the great boyfriends that they are) take Angelina and Alicia out at least once a week. I am, of course, left at the flat but in many ways I think it's a good thing. It gives me a little time to just be alone and it also helps that I know my friends are getting out of the house for a little while.

Surprisingly, Lee's been helping me through this. I think he feels more comfortable with me now that I'm in roughly the same position that he is. He stops by quite a bit and we've actually been able to patch up some stuff that needed mending.

My temper's become more melancholy over the weeks, but I am learning to accept my fate. I just worry sometimes, you know? I mean, how long am I going to be living like this? Because I'm not the kind of person who likes this kind of life—at all. I'd much rather be out there fighting You-Know-Who personally than to be here safe and trapped in my own home.

Pathetically, the only thing keeping me going through the long, grueling days is the fact that Oliver still hasn't asked Jaiden to marry him. I don't know if they're having a row or what because I haven't seen Oliver all that much; but whatever it is, I'm immensely happy.

Oliver and I have been writing back and forth and I can honestly say that I'm falling for him again. Without a doubt. If I go even a day without talking or writing to him, I start going through withdrawals. That can't be healthy, can it? I swear that boy is going to be the death of me.

Tonight's Halloween so Fred and George are having their Second Annual Halloween Bash at the shop. And I'm more than a bit depressed about the whole situation.

"Katie, you're being ridiculous," Angelina says for about the fifth time in the course of twenty minutes as she continues getting ready. "You need to stop moping around. Fred said you can come! It's a bloody costume party, for Merlin's sake! All you have to do is wear a damn mask. Lee's coming and so is that Ben guy. You're just trying to make us feel sorry for you now."

"It's not that, Ange, I just really don't want to go. I've gotten too used to solitude," I tell her, even though it's not completely true. The truth is that I'd be too scared to even step out of the house. Although I do want to be out of this entire situation, if I get caught now then everything that Oliver and everyone else has done for me would just be for nothing.

"You're alone all of the time! That's not healthy—you need company at least for one night."

"This isn't my fault, so please stop blaming it on me."

"It's not your fault you're in this position," she agrees, "but it _is_ your fault that you're miserable all of the time."

"Angelina!" Alicia groans, coming into the room. "Stop yelling. It's Katie's choice."

"Thank you," I mutter.

"I didn't say you're making the right choice, but I'm not going to push you," Alicia retorts. "Ange, we've got to go."

"Yeah, yeah," Angelina mutters, grabbing her bag as they both prepare to leave. "Listen, Katie, I know this is hard and I'm sorry for pestering you, but I just think that you need to reconsider some things. We'll be at the shop. Call us if you need us."

I lay back on Angelina's bed as they Disapparate. As soon as they're gone, the frustration sets in—frustration at them and myself alike. What is my life coming to? My days are drifting together in a dull monotony and I almost want the Ministry to find me just so that something interesting will happen.

I'm innocent! Life sucks.

Deciding not to totally waste my night, I turn on the television in our living room and grab a bowl of popcorn. It's been a while since I've embraced my muggle heritage and I'm fully content with watching old horror movies all night long. I turn all of the lights off in order to set the mood and settle into my blankets on the couch. Within a few hours, I've totally forgotten all about the party going on without me.

Suddenly, a loud crack rings throughout the room. The popcorn that I'd been holding goes flying and I can't help but scream.

"It's just me," Oliver says with a laugh and I immediately feel a blush rising to my cheeks. I quickly fumble with the remote and pause the movie; Oliver flips the light switch on.

"Horror movies make me jumpy," I defend myself. "Sorry." He just laughs and sits down next to me on the couch. "Aren't you supposed to be at the Weasley's?" I ask as he begins munching on my popcorn.

"Aren't you?" he retorts.

"Touché, but I have more reason not to be there than you do."

"Maybe. But I'm not there because I'm here with you, so we're even," he answers confidently, throwing a piece of popcorn up in the air and catching it in his mouth. I just roll my eyes.

"That logic doesn't even make sense."

"Your point?"

"I guess I don't have one," I admit. "So, why are you here?"

"Parties aren't really my thing," he shrugs.

"Where's Jaiden?" I can't help but ask.

"Not sure," he answers. I thought he was going to leave it at that, but to my delight he continues. "I haven't really been talking to her that much lately. We kind of had a falling out a couple of weeks ago. I mean, we're not broken up or anything, but…"

"I'm sorry," I lie.

"No, it's really fine. She just made some rash assumptions and—"

"What kind of assumptions?"

"That I was cheating on her," he mutters. I try to keep a straight face.

"Well, are you?" I ask, trying to contain my laughter.

"No, but she doesn't believe me," he says sternly. "We'll work it out though. We'll be fine."

"Well, great." We sit in silence for a few seconds, before I reach over and turn the movie back on. He gives me a small smile as we both turn our attention to the screen.

My mind finds it hard to focus on the movie, though. The only thing I can think of right now is the man next to me. Obviously Jaiden doesn't care about him as much as he cares about her, which is both a good thing and a bad thing. It's a good thing because it probably means that they won't be getting married any time soon. But it's also a bad thing because I hate to see Oliver hurting.

Although he doesn't look too upset at the moment…

Call it the boredom that's been building up the past few weeks, but something comes over me in that moment and I can't stop myself from reaching across the couch to grab Oliver's hand. He looks over at me quickly, shock evident on his face, but makes no indication that he wants to remove his hand from mine. I feel the corners of my mouth curl up slightly. Oliver gently enterlaces our fingers and squeezes my hand gently. My heart swells as I try to turn my attention back to the movie.

When the movie finally ends we both sit there awkwardly in the dark, neither wanting to move and unsure how to do it without seeming rude. I finally decide to get up and I head straight for the kitchen. "You hungry?" I ask as I start rummaging through the cupboards.

"We just ate a whole bowl of popcorn," he laughs. I just look at him with eyebrows raised. "What was I thinking? This is you we're talking about. Yes, of course I'm hungry."

"Good," I answer. "What are you in the mood for? The only thing I know how to cook is eggs, but there's plenty of leftover takeout."

"How in the world are you getting takeout?" he asks as he begins moving boxes aside in our refrigerator.

"Weasley's Meal Service. Fred and George bring us food at least three times a week. Delivery boys are hideous, but what can you do?"

"So you're doing good? With this whole situation, I mean?"

"I'm getting there," I admit, sitting down at the table with a slice of pizza. Oliver joins me. "I'm still not used to it, but everyday gets a little better. I guess I'm just starting to realize that there are a lot of worse things that could be happening. I've been listening to Potterwatch like crazy and it's ridiculous all of the stuff that You-Know-Who's up to."

"Yeah, I know. I mean, I'm not saying that your situation doesn't suck, but it's manageable. You're not dead, and you're not really even a muggleborn. I've been thinking about it quite a bit and even if the Ministry did somehow manage to find you, I think we could find a way to get you out of it."

"Some days I just want to turn myself in," I admit. "It'd be so much easier and—like you said—I'm sure there is some proof that I'm innocent."

"Please don't do anything rash, Katie. Every muggleborn in Azkaban is 'innocent.' They just don't care."

"Do you think that this war's ever going to end, Oliver?"

"I certainly hope so. I mean—"

Oliver's stopped abruptly as Angelina Apparates into our flat, breathing heavily.

"Angelina, what's wrong?" I ask, making my way over to her. Oliver follows close behind me.

"Oliver!" she cries, ignoring me completely and turning instead to my companion. "I thought you'd be here. C'mon! I need your help—now! Death Eaters are at the shop. I'll explain when we get there." Oliver stands up without question.

"Katie, stay here," they both warn before Disapparating.

Still in a state of shock, I collapse back into the kitchen chair that I had vacated, frustrated and scared out of my mind. Ten minutes later, I realize that I'm not going to be able to sit still, so I take to pacing around the room. What the hell is going on?

The minutes slowly tick by and it's all I can do not to Apparate to the Weasley's to try and help. The only thing keeping me here is knowing that no matter how bad the situation currently is, I would only make it worse.

Finally, nearly a half hour after Angelina had shown up and taken Oliver off with her, a volley of cracks fills the room. I leap up from my seat and stare at the four people now standing in front of me: Angelina, worry evident on every line of her face; Alicia, who looks like she's about to burst into tears; and Lee, standing next to Ben on the back wall, both of them looking more scared than two grown men have a right to look. George and Oliver are the last to Apparate into the room, both supporting a battered and bloody Fred Weasley.

"What the hell happened?" I demand, running over and helping George lower Fred onto our sofa.

"Nothing, babe. We're fine," Fred says as a deep gash on his forehead begins oozing blood.

"You bloody well are not fine!"

"Move, Katie," Alicia says gently, pushing me aside as she begins to examine Fred's face.

"Be careful, dear," he warns her as she takes his head in her hands. "George might get jealous." Alicia ignores him and begins mending the cuts with her wand. George, however, doesn't look too jealous, only worried. I'm suddenly reminded of the night that George appeared in our flat sans his ear. God, this isn't good.

"What happened?" I repeat and all eyes in the room warily move to me. "They thought I was there, didn't they?"

Slowly, Fred nods. "They used the party as an excuse to search the shop and the flat. I got a little mad and, needless to say, they didn't take that very well…"

"Didn't take it very well?" Angelina cries. "They were about to send you to Azkaban for treason!"

"Ange, even if I _had _cooperated, they would have tried to ship me off to Azkaban! This whole thing with Katie is _my_ fault—mine! They're not trying to get back at Katie; they're trying to get back at me. They didn't even throw a second glance at Ben or Lee."

"I don't care whose fault it is! If Oliver hadn't shown up, you'd be with the Dementors now."

"Thanks by the way, mate," Fred interrupts her rant to tell Oliver. He just nods his head, but looks sick nonetheless.

"Well, was anyone else hurt?" I ask. Seven heads shake. "And are you okay?" I ask Fred.

"I'm fine. Stop worrying about me."

"I'm not going to stop worrying—it's my fault you're like this!"

"Katie, no it's not," Oliver says, coming over to me. "Don't blame yourself for things that you can't control. If you were out of the picture, they would still find someway to get to Fred."

"It doesn't feel like that," I mutter. "I don't think I can do this anymore." And sadly, it's the truth. I'd much rather be in Azkaban than sitting at home watching my friends suffer to keep me safe.

"Katie, yes you can," Alicia says frustrated, still trying to finish patching Fred up.

"It gets better," Ben agrees from the opposite end of the room.

"Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe I'm not strong enough to wait?" I cry.

"More like not patient enough to wait," Fred mutters. "You're being stupid."

Fred's response angers me for some unknown reason and before my friends register what I'm doing, I open the front door and step out into the night.

"Katie, stop!" I hear Oliver yell from behind me. "Don't listen to Fred—he's an idiot."

"No," I answer stubbornly as he grabs my wrist. I yank it out of his grip and Disapparate. Seeming to read my mind, Oliver Apparates right next to me at the Ministry of Magic. Still ignoring his worried protests, I trudge up the steps. My mind is past made up and Oliver should know better than to try and change it.

"Wait!" Oliver cries again, grabbing my wrist more firmly this time.

"Oliver, I can't keep living like this!" I scream, drawing way more attention to me than I've grown accustomed to this past month. "I'm innocent!"

"They don't care!"

"Well then I guess it's off to Azkaban for me." I stomp down on his foot and he lets go of me in astonishment. Stepping into the Ministry, I'm surprised to find that it is almost full. An elderly man stops me at the door asking for a visitor's pass. Oliver's trying to explain to him that I'm out of my mind, but I have no desire to prolong this. Brushing Oliver aside, I say simply, "My name's Katie Bell; I believe you're looking for me."

--

**Haha. Cliffhanger.**

_Next time on_ Love and War:

"_I don't think you want to do that. You see, this is my fiancée."-Oliver Wood_

**Review!**


	15. Engagements

**Here's the next chapter, much sooner than I expected to get it out. Rejoice!**

**--**

_Engagements:_

The man obviously couldn't care less who I am or why I'm here. Instead, he keeps his hand outstretched for my visitor's pass. Oliver exhales in relief, but I refuse to give up. I barrel past the man into the atrium of the Ministry of Magic, Oliver following close behind me.

"Katie, stop," he orders. I don't even bother to turn around. "Imagine what this is going to do to Alicia, to Angelina—you're being selfish!"

"Selfish!" I cry over my shoulder. "Selfish? Selfish is letting you and everyone else risk your own asses to save mine."

"Do you not understand that we _want_ to? You're underestimating our friendship!"

Trying my hardest to ignore him, I look around the crowded Ministry. You know, it's kind of sad that Death Eaters are willing to torture my friends for my whereabouts, but as soon as I enter the Ministry itself no one seems to care.

Suddenly, an imposing figure catches my eye and I immediately recognize the Death Eater that seems to have a personal vendetta against Fred—Yaxley. I walk over and tap him on the shoulder, Oliver trying to stop me from behind.

Yaxley turns around from the man he'd been talking to, obviously frustrated. I give him a small smile and he does a double take. His eyes widen slightly.

"I'm not hiding at Fred Weasley's," I say simply. "And I'm not a muggleborn, but I assume that you know that already."

He grins at me and then turns to Oliver.

"Who are you?" he asks.

"Oliver Wood," he answers menacingly and Yaxley does another double take. We're just all full of surprises tonight, aren't we?

"Wood as in…"

"William and Elizabeth Wood are my parents. William and Emma Wood are my grandparents and I'm sure you know of the considerable donations that they've contributed to the Ministry over the years." He's awfully scary when he's playing the pureblood card.

"I am," Yaxley says stiffly. "But what does that have to do with our muggleborn friend here?"

"I'm not muggleborn!" I cry.

"Of course you're not, dear. Do you have proof?" Yaxley asks me with a smug smile.

"She may not, but _I_ do," Oliver says. "Our mums were pretty close at Hogwarts. I'm sure mine would be willing to testify to that fact."

Yaxley's smile disappears. "Then it seems you have nothing to worry about. A few days in Azkaban until your trial, Miss Bell, and everything will be under control."

Azkaban? Oh dear God, I hadn't thought of that! Why am I so stupid? I just always assumed that I would go straight to trial.

"I don't think that that is going to be necessary," Oliver says, stepping in front of me. "You see, I don't think that my grandparents would like that arrangement very much."

Yaxley lets out a high pitched laugh that sends chills down my spine. "I bet your grandparents don't even know this girl, son."

"Of course they do," Oliver answers confidently. What's he playing at? Sure his grandparents have met me, but I doubt that they would remember that encounter. "She's my fiancée." The words stop my heart and I slowly look up into Oliver's eyes. He's looking directly at Yaxley.

"That's impossible," Yaxley says, looking between the two of us and finally losing his air of confidence. "That Weasley boy…"

"Is just a friend," I finish for him.

"You're not wearing a ring," he points out nervously, but I'm ready for that question.

"I didn't want it to be taken away if I was sent to Azkaban."

"So _you_ were the one hiding her," Yaxley accuses Oliver.

"If I was, do you think that she would be here right now? I don't know where she's been."

Yaxley looks between the two of us. "I don't believe this," he mutters.

"Well, it's the truth," Oliver answers harshly. "You obviously got your facts wrong. You've accused a perfectly innocent witch of being a muggleborn just to get back at a guy who's not even dating her."

Yaxley still looks doubtful.

"Check the list," Oliver continues. "You sent a list to my grandparents a few months ago—names of people that they wanted under their protection. Check it." Not taking his eyes off of Oliver, Yaxley snaps his fingers and an elderly witch appears at his side.

"The Wood list, please." She disappears, but is back in under a minute. Yaxley scans the piece of parchment quickly as my heart speeds up. Why would my name be on their list? "She's on there," Yaxley finally admits and I almost shout for joy.

"I know," Oliver answers smugly. "Are we free to go?"

"She still has to have a trial," he argues, obviously trying to regain _some_ of his dignity.

"Of course," Oliver agrees. "Katie, my mum, and I will be sure to be there. Owl us the time and the date, will you?"

Yaxley nods mutely and without another word Oliver takes my arm in a tight grip and leads me out of the building.

"What were you thinking?" he asks harshly when we are finally in the open air outside of the Ministry. I choose to ignore his anger.

"Thank you so much, Oliver," I say and the fury immediately melts from his face as he pulls me into a tight hug.

"Do you know how much you just scared me? I'm not good at coming up with plans spur of the moment!"

"You did a pretty good job," I praise him and he pulls away. "But why was my name on that list?"

Oliver's face flushes. "My grandparents still think that we're engaged," he admits sheepishly.

As not funny as the situation is, I can't help but laugh. I'd almost forgotten that while we were dating Oliver had invented that lie to appease his grandmother.

"You have no backbone, you know that?" I joke.

"She scares me," he argues. "And you have to admit that it did some good." Yeah, I can't really argue with that.

"So what were you going to do once you asked Jai to marry you?" I can't help but ask.

"I was planning on telling them that you dyed your hair, went through extensive plastic surgery, and changed your name."

"Please tell me you're kidding."

"I am," he laughs.

"Well, I guess I should go tell the others I'm not…dead," I mutter.

Oliver scoffs. "Not so fast. Do you know what kind of situation we're in now? A bad one, Katie—a very bad one. We're going to be watched. They're going to try to catch us in a lie. If they find out we're not really engaged, do you know what they'd do to my grandparents? I put my whole family on the line for this and now we've got to play the part. You're going to have to stay at my place."

His words are so demanding, so final that I don't even try to argue. Not to mention the fact that I don't really have any desire to.

"But if they're going to be watching us that closely, what about Ben?"

"Trust me; Ben's better protected than the Pope right now. Plus, they can't watch the inside of the house. It's just a precaution so that it seems like we're actually in a relationship. It may be unnecessary, but my family is not going to die because of me." Or me.

"Okay," I agree.

"Okay," he says, taking my hand as we Disapparate to my new home.

--

I've barely recovered form the Side-Along Apparation before Oliver is on the phone. I listen eagerly, hoping that he's calling my flat, but I am disappointed.

"Mum!" he cries. What is his pureblood mother doing with a phone? "Listen, it's a long story, but Katie and I are engaged…Yeah, she tried to turn herself in…No, what I need is for you to testify that Caroline Bell was a witch…"

"Katie!" a shout fills the house. Oliver and I both turn at Ben's exclamation, but Oliver quickly refocuses on his phone call. Before I can even fully take in his presence, Ben wraps his arms around me. "We thought you'd be in Azkaban by now. You have no idea how worried we were!"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. Oliver's a miracle worker though. Listen, do you have a mobile phone? I really need to call Angelina." Without question, he pulls the phone out of his pocket and hands it to me. I dial the number to our flat.

"Hello?" Angelina answers.

"Hi, it's me."

"Katie! Oh my God—are you okay?" I hear mutters fill the room behind her.

"I'm fine—I swear," I assure her. "Oliver managed to work everything out. We just have to pretend like we're engaged for a while so can you spread the word?"

Angelina laughs from the other line. "Yeah, I'll be sure to tell everyone. So, you're fine?"

"Yeah, perfectly fine. The Ministry is going to owl me with the trial date and Oliver's mum is going to testify for me, so I think that everything is worked out."

"Well, that's great. Where are you?"

"I'm…I'm kind of at Oliver's and I think that I'm probably going to have to stay here for a while." I watch Ben carefully as I say this and his eyes widen. He turns to Oliver who's now off of the phone. I turn my back on the pair.

"No way," she says with a laugh and I'm not quite sure as to what's amusing her.

"What's going on?" I hear Fred's worried voice from the background. "Let me talk to her."

"Ange, no," I warn, not really wanting to deal with Fred at this point—especially not over the phone. "Please!"

"You're not very good with phones, sweetie," she tries. There's a bit of a scuffle on the other line before Fred's voice comes on the phone, just a bit too loud.

"Hello?"

"Fred," I groan, ignoring the murmurs of Oliver and Ben behind me. My voice obviously scares the poor boy because I hear a slight intake of breath and a loud thump.

"Did you just drop the phone?" I ask after first giving him plenty of time to retrieve it.

"No," he says, much too quickly.

"Purebloods," I joke.

"So, are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I say, slightly frustrated. "Angelina will explain everything, Fred; I have to go."

"But Katie—"

"Bye." I ignore his protests and snap the phone shut before handing it back to Ben. "Thank you."

"No problem," he says with a wide grin and I can tell that he's holding back laughter. Why is this so funny to everyone?

"I really am sorry about all of this Oliver," I say once more. "And thank you."

"It's not a problem," he answers and I can tell that he's not lying. "I'm just glad you're safe…And here so that I can make sure you don't do anything stupid."

"Thank you," I repeat.

"If you say that one more time, then I'm kicking you out," Oliver says. I shut my mouth. "We do have a few things that we need to work through though." I just nod. "For starters, we're fine with you being here but are you okay living with two guys?"

"It's fine. I'm not a kid anymore, Oliver." Why does he need that constant reminder?

"Okay, then," Oliver concedes. "Ben, we'll have to move your stuff into my room and—"

"Oh no you don't," I interrupt. "I'm not about to disrupt your lives. I'll take the couch."

"Katie—"

"No, really. I can handle the couch for a few days."

"Days?" Oliver scoffs. "No. They're going to postpone your trial as long as possible."

"Why?" I ask, confused.

"Because they know you're innocent so the best they can do is try to keep you and Fred worrying for a few weeks."

"Weeks!"

"Or months," Ben adds.

"I'll try to get my grandparents to speed up the process, but—"

"Oh my God," I groan.

"Couch still looking good?" Ben asks with a smirk.

"I'm not taking your room," I answer stubbornly.

"Katie, you're a girl—you need your privacy," Oliver argues.

"Trust me when I say that I'm used to not having any privacy. Fred barges into my room all the time."

"This isn't really the same thing," he notes.

"Please just let me have the couch. I'm sick of disrupting people's lives."

"Fine. But if you ever want to trade—"

"—I'll let you know."

Ben gives me a giant smile and I can't help but return it. From what he and Mallory have told me, I think that his relationship with Oliver has been strained since Jaiden. It seems like he's looking forward to not being alone in this mess.

"I don't have any of my stuff," I mutter.

"You also don't have a ring," Ben points out.

"I have a ring," Oliver sighs and disappears into his room.

"No way," Ben whispers to me. "He wasn't going to ask her to marry him…"

"He was."

Even though I know that Oliver wouldn't have been able to hear us, he walks back into the room with a scowl on his face. "Don't say a word, Ben." Ben raises his hands innocently as Oliver throws a little black box at me. I catch it.

"Oliver," Ben starts, "you weren't honestly going to ask that bitch to marry you…"

"The next time you call my girlfriend a bitch…" Oliver threatens although I can see that his heart's not really into it. They've obviously had this conversation before.

"I'll stop calling your girlfriend a bitch when she stops calling mine one," Ben replies. "Aren't you two in the middle of a fight right now, anyways?" Oliver nods. "She's bloody jealous of you, Katie," he continues. "It's quite funny, actually, especially since she doesn't realize just how right she is."

I feel my cheeks flush. "I've barely even met her," I defend myself. "What did you do—tell her we used to date?"

"No," Oliver answers. "But I think she's guessed. And I've got to go talk to her, so I'll see you two later."

"Oh, come on," Ben begs. "Can't you wait a little while longer before making up with her? This has been the best few weeks of my life, without her hanging around."

"No, I've got to talk to her now."

"Why?"

"That's why," Oliver answers, pointing at me and the ring that I'm holding. "If she finds out that I'm 'engaged' before I tell her…well, it's not going to be good."

"You can't tell her that!" Ben argues. "She'll tell everyone that this is fake and then Katie will be in Azkaban!" I silently agree with him, but this is Oliver's decision to make.

"Give her more credit than that. Mallory and her may not get along, but Jai would never do anything to intentionally hurt another person. If I tell her not to tell, she won't."

Ben sullenly collapses onto the couch.

"And you _can_ put that ring on, Katie. It's not going to hurt you. It would also probably be better if you stay in the house tonight. Owl Angelina and tell her to send over your stuff through the Floo Network. Our fireplace isn't monitored and I don't want anyone getting suspicious." Without another word he grabs his wand and Disapparates, leaving Ben and me alone.

He's still muttering about what a bitch Jaiden is when I open the box and pull her engagement ring out. My breath catches in my throat and I feel tears threatening to fall as I gaze at it. It's beautiful and all I can think of is the fact that Oliver really is serious. He really does want to marry this girl.

"It's beautiful," I say aloud.

"It's sickening," Ben corrects. Unwilling to openly take his side yet, I don't respond.

--

Angelina, the great friend that she is, packed all of my clothes and toiletries into a duffle bag and sent them over. It's kind of sad that all of my personal belongings can fit into one bag…

"So, where does my stuff need to go?" I ask Ben since Oliver still hasn't returned. "I really don't feel like living out of a bag for the next few months."

"Yeah well, you're the one who wanted the couch. There's not really much closet space in the living room." He looks around the room for a few seconds before finally coming up with an idea. "Here," he announces proudly, pointing to the entertainment center.

I look at it doubtfully; Ben just rolls his eyes and begins clearing videos and DVD's out of the drawers. "The whole system's mine," Ben explains as he works. "Just stick your clothes in the drawers."

Laughing to myself at his rather unconventional idea, I begin unpacking my clothes. Oliver's dog, Bludger, lounges at my side and I occasionally reach over to pet his ears.

"So, how long have you lived here?" I ask.

"About two years. I couldn't afford a place on my own yet, so Oliver and I agreed to move in together. I was actually planning on moving out but just a few days before I was scheduled to move, You-Know-Who came back in the open. Puddlemere's manager decided that it would be best for my safety if I lived with one of the guys and Oliver agreed to take me back. So here I am."

"That kind of sucks."

"Yeah, but in a lot of ways I'm grateful. I mean, Oliver's great so…"

We sit in silence for a few more minutes as I continue unpacking. "You didn't bring many clothes," Ben notes.

"I don't own many clothes," I answer. "I just tend to wear other people's." He seems to find that funny but doesn't comment, allowing me to get back to my unpacking.

Finally, I get to the last few articles in my bag—underwear. Although Ben's still sitting right there, I don't feel too incredibly awkward so I continue. He doesn't comment; Mallory's trained him well. When I get to the bottom of my bag, however, I notice a couple of pieces of lingerie that definitely do not belong to me.

"She did not!" I mutter to myself and, completely unabashed, remove the garment from my bag and show it to Ben. "I'm going to kill her," I tell him.

"Don't go too far now. I think it'd look good on you," he jokes. I glare at him and chunk the lacy bra his way. Much to my delight, he almost falls off of the arm of the chair he's sitting on in order to dodge it.

"Done," I announce after shoving my bag under the couch. Ben, still sending death glares at Angelina's underwear, doesn't hear me.

--

Oliver arrives home around midnight, obviously not in the best of moods. Ben tries to start a conversation, but Oliver ignores him and slams the door to his bedroom shut. Ben, laughing all the while, decides to call it a night and disappears into his own room.

As soon as both of the boys were settled, the house falls silent. It's a strange feeling, actually. I'm not really all that used to silence. I'm never the last one in bed at my own flat and Fred or George are normally causing ruckus at all hours of the night—they've taken to just coming and going as they please.

It's just weird not to hear anything.

Knowing that I'm not going to be able to sleep, I put it off as long as possible. I grab my pajamas and shower supplies and head for the bathroom.

As soon as I'm inside, I put a silencing charm on the door and reach into the shower to heat the water up. A quick glance around the bathroom that I'm sharing with Ben makes it perfectly obvious that this is going to get a bit awkward. How is Ben going to take me leaving my makeup on the counter? Or my razor in the shower?

I recheck to make sure the bathroom door is locked before undressing and hopping into the warm water. While I'm showering, I realize that although I said I was comfortable living with two guys, I'm not exactly sure how to take this yet. I've never showered in a guy's house before and it almost makes me feel…indecent. Like one of them is going to walk in at any second.

I bathe as quickly as possible.

I head back to the couch and have to shove Bludger off so that I can get on it myself. Ben had laid out blankets and pillows for me. Apparently, the couch folds out into a bed, but neither Ben or I knew how to make it work. I guess I'll just have to wait until Oliver's in a better mood to show me how to work it myself.

I lay there staring at the ceiling for a long while. I don't remember falling asleep, but I know that I must have because I had the best dream. In it, Oliver pulled my covers up tighter and kissed my forehead before returning to his room as if nothing had happened. If I get dreams like that every night, I just might want to stay for a while.

--

_Next time on _Love and War: _A_ _Confrontation between Jai and Katie :D_

**Review, please! I really want to try to get 20 reviews for any one chapter. The most I've ever gotten is 19. So, what do you say? Review and make me a happy person.**


	16. Confrontations

**Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I was seriously overwhelmed. Not only did I get the 20 reviews that I requested, I've already gotten over 30 as I type this. I am a very happy person right now :) **

**--**

_Confrontation:_

The next morning I'm awoken by the sound of clattering coming from the kitchen. Not in the least bit concerned, I pull my pillow over my head to block out the offending noise. When that doesn't work, I roll over angrily only to feel my bed disappear from beneath me.

Unable to stop myself, I hit the floor with a thump. My eyes snap open to an unfamiliar room and it takes me several seconds to figure out what exactly is going on. When Oliver's face suddenly comes into view, everything else snaps into place.

"Sorry," he whispers, holding out a hand to help me up. "I didn't mean to wake you."

I grab his hand and pull myself up. Looking out the windows, I notice that the sun isn't up yet. "What time is it?" I mumble.

"Early. I have practice. You can go back to bed; I'll be home later."

I silently crawl back onto the couch, already half asleep again.

"Why didn't you pull out the bed?" Oliver asks with a laugh. I groan in response. "Right. I forgot that you're not a morning person." I hear his laugh, but it soon fades away as I slip back to sleep.

--

Several hours later, I'm once again awoken as a loud crack fills the room. I jerk awake, nearly falling off of the sofa once again. I hear Ben's door opening from down the hall as my eyes slowly begin to focus.

"Mallory?" I ask once I can clearly see the person in front of me. She jumps, obviously not expecting anyone to be lounging on the couch.

"Holy shit, Katie. You scared me. What are you doing here?"

Operating on only a few hours of sleep, I'm relatively unsure of the answer myself. I look towards Ben for help. He's standing there, however, without a shirt on. I groan and lay back, pulling my pillow over my head on the way down. Mallory laughs at me and sits down by my feet.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," she says.

"It's not a problem," I mumble from behind my pillow.

"I couldn't get in touch with you last night," I hear Ben say. "Katie's going to be staying here for a while."

"So you stuck her on the couch?"

"She wanted the couch! Didn't you, Katie?" I groan in response. "See! Let her sleep. Come on back to my room and I'll explain what's going on." I try to tell him that that won't be necessary, but no sound comes out. I take that as a sign and go back to sleep.

--

"It's almost noon—shouldn't we wake her up?"

"I don't know. Maybe she always sleeps this late."

I slowly open my eyes and sit up.

"Hey look, she's awake," Ben says from a table in the kitchen. Mallory is sitting next to him, smiling at me slightly. I blink a few times and then get up to join them.

"Coffee?" I ask meekly.

"I don't think we have any," Ben answers. "I didn't know you liked the stuff."

"It's Alicia's fault," I mumble, heading towards the cabinets. I open them haphazardly, trying to find something to eat.

"What are you looking for?" Mallory asks.

"Cereal."

"It's noon—don't you want lunch?"

"Not really," I reply.

"Cereal's in the cabinet next to the stove," Ben answers with a laugh. I grab a box and pour myself a bowl.

"Do you always sleep in this late?" Ben asks.

"You don't?"

"Nah. I guess I got used to waking up early for Quidditch practice."

"You're weird."

"Well, if you're going to sleep this late, you should at least take a bedroom."

"I'm not taking your bedroom!" I say, trying to make it sound final. Ben just rolls his eyes. "So, I didn't realize that Quidditch was still practicing. I mean, there are not any games."

"Puddlemere's still training," Ben answers. "I'm the only one missing, so they have enough to play without me."

"My friend Angelina plays for the Harpies and she said that the league's trying to reinstate some muggleborns."

"Yeah, they are. They're trying to give us some sort of diplomatic immunity in order to get the games going again. I think You-Know-Who wants to try and convince the general public that everything's normal. Quidditch is an easy way to do that. I don't know if it'll actually happen, but I'm not going to complain if it does. I just want to play again, you know?" I nod.

"So how did Jaiden take the news of you staying here?" Mallory asks with a smirk.

"No clue," I answer.

"I think that she's more upset by the fact that she has to pretend Oliver's engaged," Ben says.

"How do you know that?" I ask through a mouthful of cereal.

"I was talking to Oliver this morning. He's telling everyone that you and him have been secretly going out for about a year and you said if he didn't break up with Jaiden, you were leaving. Realizing he couldn't live without you, he broke up with her and asked you to marry him."

"How romantic."

"I like to think so—I helped come up with it."

"Oh, well in that case thanks for making me sound like some sort of hussy," I scoff.

"No problem," he replies. "Jai barely knows you and she already hates you."

"Wow, I can't imagine why," Mallory says sarcastically, rolling her eyes at me. I can't help but smile.

"Well, it could have something to do with the fact that Katie and Oliver used to go out," Ben replies. Mallory's eyes widen and her mouth opens. Thank you, Ben.

"You did?" Mallory cries, shocked.

"Back at Hogwarts, yeah," I answer when I can't figure out a way to lie about the whole situation.

"Well, that definitely explains why he talks about you so much."

"Surely he doesn't—"

"Oh, trust me," Ben cuts in, "he does. He's hopelessly in love with you. He just doesn't know it yet."

"Why would he want to marry Jai if he's in love with me?" I ask smartly.

"Because he's crazy."

"Jai doesn't like him the way he likes her," Mallory adds. "It's obvious. Oliver's just blind."

"That he is," Ben agrees and the couple exchange knowing glances. I open my mouth to ask about it but at that moment a loud ringing fills the room. Mallory nearly jumps out of her skin, but I recognize the sound as Ben's mobile phone. He quickly grabs it from his pocket, glances at the screen and then answers it. "Hi, Mum," he says as he walks out of the room.

"I'm still not used to that," Mallory says, clutching her heart.

"I'm not either," I admit. "We had a phone at my own flat, but we only use it during emergencies."

"Yeah, he needs it to talk to his family. He's been worried sick about them since You-Know-Who came back."

"I can relate," I reply, throwing a glance at Ben who is pacing the living room as he talks to his mum. "My dad's a muggle. I sent him to America as soon as all of this business started."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"So," Mallory says after a few seconds of awkwardness, "you used to date Oliver Wood?"

"Sadly, yes," I admit.

"I bet he'd be a good boyfriend. You know…if he actually had a normal girlfriend. Was he?"

"Sometimes," I laugh. "He, uh, was quite obsessed with Quidditch." Mallory laughs too.

"Do you mind me asking how he is in bed? I'm sure his talents are wasted on Jaiden." I feel a blush rise to my cheeks. The most surprising thing is that I really don't mind the questions. It feels good just to talk.

"I wouldn't know. We dated when I was fifteen, broke up when I was sixteen. He was older, but he never really tried anything."

"Pity."

"Tell me about it," I moan.

"You still like him," she notes. It's not a question.

"I do," I say after thinking about it for a second.

"Him and Jaiden won't last long," Mallory assures me. "Listen, this isn't something that I like to admit because I'm a relatively prideful person, but Jaiden's been making moves on Ben for months. I don't even know if he realizes it—he's kind of oblivious—but if you watch closely enough you'll see what I'm talking about. That's why she hates me; that's why I hate her."

"I don't understand why Oliver stays with her…"

"Neither do I."

"Sorry about that," Ben says, coming back into the room. "My mum's been freaking out a lot easier lately."

"It's not a problem," I assure him. "So, what time does Oliver normally get home from practice at?"

"Around three. Jai's probably going to be with him, though."

"But she can't come here," Mallory interjects excitedly. "Not anymore—not with Katie here. It'll look too suspicious."

"Oliver's grandparent's pay good money so that his fireplace isn't monitored. She can get in."

"Well damn," Mallory mutters. I can't help but laugh.

I finish my breakfast and then excuse myself to change out of my pajamas.

--

Just as Ben predicted, Oliver arrives at three.

"Thank the Lord!" Mallory cries when Jaiden doesn't floo in behind him.

"She's coming over in a few minutes, Mal," Oliver retorts. "I want her to meet Katie."

"Fine then. I guess I'm out of here," she says, grabbing her bag that Ben holds out for her. "See you later, Katie." She gives Ben a quick peck on the lips and Disapparates.

I look up to find Oliver glaring at his roommate. "Don't give me that look," Ben begs. "Mallory can form her own opinions about people. It's not my fault she doesn't like Jai."

"Plus you totally agree with her," I add. Oliver just rolls his eyes.

"So, I'm surprised to find you awake," he jokes.

"Shut up."

"Sorry for waking you up this morning, by the way. I wasn't thinking that early in the morning and I forgot you were there."

"It's not a problem," I assure him.

"I'll try to be quieter tomorrow."

"I would greatly appreciate it."

"Listen," he says seriously, taking a seat with me and Ben at the table. "I know that Ben and Mallory have probably already corrupted your view on Jai, but can you please try to be civil? I just want her to see that she has nothing to worry about with you living here—that we have a totally platonic relationship."

"But that would be a lie," Ben says and my face heats up. "Oh, come on, Oliver! Do you honestly think that you're going to make it a few months without making a move on Katie? It's obvious you're still in love with her!"

"Ben, just shut up!" Oliver begs. "Katie and I are over. We ended a long time ago and we have both moved on. So stop entertaining this fantasy of us together—it's not going to happen!"

"I'm sitting right here," I remind them both.

"Good," Oliver says, "then you can help me out here. Tell him that we're over."

I open my mouth to retort when suddenly Oliver's fireplace comes to life. As the flames dissipate, Jaiden steps into the living room in all of her glory. She doesn't even have a trace of ash or soot on her! Seeing her there just angers me and I choose that moment to reply to Oliver.

"What if I don't want us to be over," I say flirtatiously. Even though it's not a lie, Oliver knows I'm only doing it to pester Jaiden. I slowly get up from my seat as Jaiden storms into the room and I walk over to him. "You always said we could give it another try," I say, running my hand over first his arm and then his back as I circle around him.

"Katie," he warns.

"What?" I ask, looking him directly in the eye. He meets my gaze, begging me to stop. Well, fine; ruin my fun. "You know I was joking. Like I'd ever take you back, anyway." He rolls his eyes at me and turns to face a livid Jai.

"Hey, babe," he greets, placing a soft kiss on her lips. I turn away from the couple and sit back down next to Ben. He smirks at me; I hit him on the shoulder.

"Katie, you've met Jai," Oliver introduces and I slowly force my eyes to focus back on the pair. His arm's still wrapped around her waist so my smile comes out more like a grimace.

"Um, yeah. At Leanne and Cullen's wedding," I answer as politely as possible.

"Really?" Jai asks. "I don't think I remember you." I push the smile off of my face. So that's how it's going to be. Ben lets out a gentle laugh next to me and I turn to glare at him.

"Sorry," he whispers directly in my ear, obviously not wanting Oliver to hear. "But I warned you that she's a bitch."

Oliver stands on the sideline awkwardly. "Um, Jai…"

"Oh, wait. I remember now," Jai says with a smile. "You're the one that got caught shagging that Weasley boy, right? Caused a big scene? Everyone was talking about it."

"Yeah, good times," I force out through my embarrassment. "You know what? I have to go to the bathroom—be right back."

Without waiting for a response, I head into the bathroom and collapse on the floor. Okay, it's official: I'm not going to make it through this night without killing someone. Who knew that one girl could make me so incredibly angry?

A knock sounds on the bathroom door. "Who is it?"

"Let me in," Ben says from the other side. I reach up and unlock the door, allowing him to come in. He rolls his eyes when he finds me sitting on the floor but does not hesitate in joining me there. "You must be crazy if you think I'm staying out there alone."

"And you don't think that it's a little bit weird if you follow me into the bathroom?" I point out.

"It's not like I care what Jaiden thinks."

"What about what Oliver thinks?"

"He has no claim on you. Technically, you're free game."

"Except for the fact that you have a girlfriend," I laugh.

"Good point. But Oliver does owe me. I didn't tell anyone when he cheated on Jai."

"You told Charlie!"

"Oh, right. I'd forgotten about that."

"I don't want to go back out there," I admit. "I really don't like her."

"I think that that would be the understatement of the year. You're jealous."

"You need to shut up."

"You're prettier than her…if that helps," Ben adds.

"Well, thanks."

"Listen, I'll help you out—I don't like her either. Just please don't leave me alone again," he begs with fake desperation.

"I promise," I say as he helps me up. We leave the bathroom together.

"Okay," Oliver says when we enter the kitchen, "should I cook or order pizza?"

"Order pizza," Ben and I answer together. Oliver glances between the two of us warily, but picks up the phone nevertheless. It's kind of weird how much Ben and Oliver embrace the muggle lifestyle. I kind of think that's Ben's influence, but Cullen did it before Ben. Oliver might be a pureblood, but he has more experience with muggles than most half-bloods do.

As he orders the pizza, Ben and I migrate into the living room not wanting to stay in the kitchen with Jaiden for much longer.

"Pizza should be here in about thirty minutes," Oliver announces, entering the room hand in hand with Jaiden. I cringe and Ben laughs at me.

Ben immediately starts hounding Oliver with questions about Puddlemere and what's been going on in his absence. I remain silent until I realize that Jaiden isn't very comfortable with this topic—she obviously doesn't have anything to add. I embrace that fact and within a few minutes feel comfortable enough to join in.

Oliver tries to change the subject several times but Ben and I—working as a team—are always able to steer the conversation back to Quidditch in order to silence Jaiden. Mallory would be proud.

The doorbell rings about a half hour later and Oliver gets up to retrieve the pizza.

"You still can't work muggle money, mate," Ben argues. I get up to help him just as Jai does also.

"I'm his girlfriend," she says harshly.

"I'm his fiancée," I retort and push past her in order to help Oliver at the door. We head into the kitchen carrying four pizzas between us.

"Do we really need that many pizzas?" Jaiden asks.

"Have you ever seen guys eat?" I retort. "Fred, George, and Lee could eat four pizzas by themselves."

"Who are _they_? Your boyfriends?"

"Well unlike you, I don't typically have three boyfriends at the same time."

"They're just these three guys that we used to go to school with," Oliver cuts in and throws me a pointed glare. I just shrug. It's his own fault for bringing her over here.

I grab three slices of pizza and pile them onto my plate before taking a seat at the bar. Ben takes a seat next to me as Oliver and Jaiden take a seat around the table.

"What?" I ask when I notice Ben staring at my plate warily.

"Nothing. I just didn't expect you to eat _that_ much."

"Oh," I laugh. "Well, I'm not one of those girls that don't eat." I can't help but stare at Jaiden's measly one slice of pizza.

"And you're still skinnier than Jai. That takes talent." I refrain from laughing at the look of shock on Jaiden's face. Oliver, not wanting to insult either of us, keeps his mouth shut.

Ben and I chat amicably but it doesn't escape my notice that Oliver and Jaiden don't say a word.

Once we finish eating, they settle onto _my_ couch to watch some movie. Ben and I are debating on what to do to get away from the pair when the doorbell rings. I don't pay much attention to it since it isn't my house and Ben just pulls me out of view from the door (he's still in hiding) and continues our conversation.

"Where's Katie?" I hear a familiar voice ask. Unable to control my joy, I give a small scream and rush to the door where Fred is standing, smirking at me grandly. I wrap my arms around him tightly and he lifts me off of the ground playfully. I can't help but laugh.

"Do I smell pizza?" he asks as he puts me down.

"It's in the kitchen, Fred," Oliver says grudgingly as he sits back down. "But just for the record, I don't think it's very safe for you to come here very often. You're what got Katie into this mess in the first place."

I'm stunned when Fred doesn't argue. "I know, but I didn't have the password to floo into your house and I really need to talk to you." Oliver and I both look at Fred warily as he says that.

"To me?" Oliver repeats.

"Yeah…"

"Um, okay."

"In private." Still looking confused, Oliver gets up from his seat and leads Fred into his bedroom. As soon as the door's shut behind them, I rush forward and press my ear against it.

"It's not polite to eavesdrop," Jaiden says form the couch, losing all interest in the movie and instead staring at me. I just roll my eyes and try to concentrate.

"What's going on?" Ben asks, coming into the room. I shush him and try to get just a bit closer.

"This doesn't change anything," Fred says, "But I do want to thank you for getting her out of the mess I put her in. It was very generous of you to do that for me."

"I wasn't doing it for you."

"Yeah, I know. And that's what scares me."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's supposed to mean that you're going to end up hurting her again—just like last time. You don't know what it was like, seeing her hurting like that. I don't want to have to pick up the pieces again." Oh god, Fred, no. Please don't bring that up with him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Just all of the pain that you caused her. I didn't think I was going to get her through her fifth year and when you broke up with her…well, I was wrong in thinking that it would get better from there."

There's silence for a while and I hear Jaiden humming aggravatingly from across the flat.

"That was different, Fred. What does that have to do with our current situation?"

"She's going to grow attached to you again. She—She just—She deserves better than you; you know that, right?"

"You've told me that a few times," Oliver answers miserably.

"…but I think that she wants you. And that scares me to death because you're the one thing that I can't protect her from."

"Katie and I have a…complicated relationship. But you have to know that I would never do anything to hurt her."

"Not intentionally," Fred admits.

Feeling the conversation come to a close, I rush away from the door and hop over the couch and settle in next to Jai, not realizing just how conspicuous that looks.

"You were totally listening," Oliver informs me.

"You were talking about me," I reply smartly. "I had every right to listen in."

"I don't think that's how it works," Jaiden says.

"You're a nasty little piece of work, aren't you?" Fred asks, earning a laugh from Ben.

"Fred…" Oliver warns.

"Get out—I got it," Fred laughs. "One last hug, Katie?" I rush forward and wrap my arms around him.

"Bye," I whisper in his ear.

"Bye," he replies and kisses me on the forehead.

Oliver leads him to the door.

"He's rather good-looking," Jaiden says, looking at me as if asking me to argue.

"He's got a girlfriend," I reply.

"Unless he's married, I don't really care."

"Well, you're quite a catch now, aren't you?" I retort.

"What? Oliver and I don't have an exclusive relationship. Never have. He knows that I couldn't pull it off."

I look to Ben for conformation and he just shrugs. Maybe Oliver's been keeping a few secrets of his own. But that doesn't make sense! Why would he lie? The kiss we shared a few months back obviously bothered him; if he wasn't worried about cheating, then what's the problem?

Ready to just collapse into my own bed, I take a shower while Oliver and Jaiden finish their movie. As soon as I emerge back into the living room, Oliver stops the tape.

"You should probably go on home, Jai," Oliver tells her.

"But I don't want to go home," she pouts, leaning in and kissing Oliver's neck. I find myself unable to look away.

He doesn't shrug her off. Instead, he lets her press her lips to his and kiss him deeply.

"Okay," I snap. "I don't care what you two do, but can you please not do it on _my_ bed?"

Jaiden pulls back with a smirk and Oliver, blushing profusely, apologizes. He quickly shows me how to work the pull out bed and excuses himself and Jaiden without another word. I watch in silence as they disappear into his bedroom.

Looking up at the ceiling from my bed, it suddenly hits me that every argument I have with Jaiden is fruitless. Because in the end, she has Oliver and I don't. No matter what, she'll always come out on top.

--

_Next time on _Love and War:

"_Let me guess. Was that just another mistake?" –Katie_

"_I'm not sure yet." –Oliver_

**Review, please!**


	17. Puddlemere's Charity Ball

**I don't know how many people read my profile on a regular basis, but I normally put alerts on there about when I'll next be updating this story. Sadly, I had band camp this week and was unable to do so. I also spent the weekend finishing **_**Breaking Dawn**_**, so if anyone else has finished and wants to talk, let me know. Also, there's a picture of Katie's ball gown in this chapter on my profile. I'm horrible at describing dresses and feel that it needs to be seen in order to get the full effect. Happy reading!**

**--**

_Puddlemere's Charity Ball:_

My demanding presence seemed to have no effect on Jaiden whatsoever, because starting the very next day she never left Oliver's flat. It didn't matter that Oliver was constantly gone at practice or that Ben and I hatred her guts—she was _always_ around. I assume that she sleeps at her own flat, but I have no proof of that because she's always sitting at our kitchen table when I wake up.

It's worse for Ben than it is for me. I'm free to leave the flat whenever I please (which I've taken to doing quite often to escape the bitch's company), but Ben's stuck here with a girl that is obviously madly in love with him. She doesn't even try to hide it around me anymore. Needless to say, Ben's a mess. Especially since Mallory refuses to come over when Jaiden's here. The girl's almost as stubborn as me.

As hopeless as our situation is, neither Ben nor I have mentioned our annoyance to Oliver. He's made it quite clear where we can stick our comments about Jaiden.

The most annoying part is that she comes over for no apparent reason at all. She doesn't cook or clean, she doesn't even talk most of the time. She just sits there like a babysitter, watching to make sure Ben and I stay out of trouble. It's bad enough watching her disappear into Oliver's room every night. I don't want to have to deal with her during the day too.

The only thing that pisses me off more than Jaiden just sitting there is when she just sits there while I was trying to cook something—judging me the entire time. I'm not a good chef even on the best days, but with her sitting there I always feel like I'm being graded on something.

It was on one of these particular days in early December when I nearly had a breakdown. How a witch can find a way to burn a piece of toast, I don't know, but I somehow did it.

As Jaiden sits laughing at me silently in the next room, I explode. Actually, I more implode. I give a strangled yell, throw the offending piece of bread across the counter and rush for Ben's room where he hides during the day.

And I almost make it past Jaiden.

"Where are you going?" she asks.

"To talk to Ben…"

"You could just wait for him to come out of his room."

"Have you not figured out by now that he doesn't leave his room while you're here?" I retort.

"But what would people think if they saw you and Ben together in his room like that? You shouldn't push your luck by going alone into a boy's bedroom."

"_You_ do it every night!"

"That's different—Oliver's _my _boyfriend."

"Oh, well Ben and I are having hot sex every night so I suppose this is acceptable too." Her mouth opens in shock, but I ignore it and rush down the hall into Ben's bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

Ben's lying across his bed with his mobile phone pressed to his ear. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"Why do I say the things I say?" I ask, more to myself than to him.

"Um, Mallory, I think I'm going to have to call you back," he mutters into his phone. "Yeah…I'll talk to you later…love you, too…bye."

"Aw!" I coo and he rolls his eyes.

"What do you need?" he asks, throwing a pillow at me. I catch it and throw it back. Ben ducks and it flies to the other side of his bed. I small yip sounds from under it and Bludger hops onto Ben's bed, cowering from the offending object.

"I want Jaiden gone," I beg. "Bludger's even hiding from her!"

"Sorry, Katie, but if there was something I could do, then I would have done it by now. I'm in a lot of physical pain here and Mallory won't come over to help me get rid of it. I don't like resorting to racy magazines as my only source of pleasure."

"Wow, I think we're getting too comfortable with each other," I joke. "Can't we talk to Oliver about it, though? I mean, this is ridiculous!"

"It's his house; it's his girlfriend. It's none of our business."

"Well then I'm going to make it my business! I'm going to talk to him." Ben groans and collapses onto his pillows.

"_I'll_ talk to him," he finally concedes. "He can't kick _me_ out."

"Thank you," I laugh, hugging him quickly.

"But you owe me."

"Of course. Anything."

"Anything?"

"Why?" I ask warily as a sly grin comes over his face.

"Make him break up with Jai. He likes you, he's just in denial. Make him know it. For both of our sex lives—please!"

"I can't do that, Ben," I argue. "He said it himself—he obviously doesn't have feelings for me anymore."

"He might realize he does if Jai weren't here all of the time. I do my part, you do yours. Deal?"

I roll my eyes but shake his outstretched hand anyway.

--

Ben and I play some muggle video games that he has in his room until Oliver arrives. As soon as we hear him come through the door, we both head for the living room.

"Oliver," Ben starts, ignoring Jaiden as usual. "Katie and I need to talk to you about something kind if important, so can you get rid of your shadow for the night?"

Oliver winces at the nickname, but doesn't seem too bothered by the proposition. "Jai, honey, why don't we call it a day? I'll see you later, though."

"But, Ollie, I've barely seen you at all," she whines and I can't help but roll my eyes.

Surprisingly, Oliver doesn't fall for her charm as easily as I would have suspected. "Sorry, but I've got to make time for my friends, too. I'll call you."

Sensing defeat, she pulls him into a deep kiss instead. He returns it only half-heartedly, but I excuse myself for the kitchen nonetheless. Ben follows close behind and we take a seat at the table. I use my wand to summon a bag of crisps from the pantry and laugh when it hits Ben in the back of the head.

"You suck at Summoning Charms," he says as voices return to the next room. At least I know that they're no longer kissing.

"There's something I think that you need to know, Oliver," I hear Jaiden say. "I think that Ben and that girl are sleeping together." I can't help but burst into laughter and Ben looks at me astounded.

"What did you do?" he asks.

"I couldn't help it!" I defend myself, more happy than I've felt in days. "Wait, did she just refer to me as 'that girl'?"

"Oh, I think she did."

Ben and I keep laughing until Oliver comes into the room about a minute later. "Please tell me she's wrong," Oliver says through clenched teeth.

"Oh well you know me," I joke. "I just can't keep my hands off of him."

"And with Mallory not being able to be here and all," Ben continues. "I mean, she is pretty hot, mate."

Oliver looks between us warily. As if on cue, all three of us burst out laughing.

"It's not funny; I don't know why I'm laughing," Oliver says. "Why would Jai even think that?"

"Probably because I told her," I inform him.

"Now why the hell would you do something like that?"

"Because she was annoying me!"

"Yeah, mate," Ben interjects. "I'm just throwing this out there, but she can't be here when you're not. I haven't seen Mallory in nearly a month—I'm dying here! Katie's just not doing it for me anymore."

"Ha ha, thanks," I retort. "But I happen to be quite good in bed."

"You have names to prove that?" he jokes.

"I'll get you a list."

"Can you two please be quiet for a second?" Oliver begs. "I'm trying to work this out—do you honestly think that I like Jai here every moment of everyday? I haven't had any alone time in quite a while."

"Then tell her _I_ said she couldn't come over while you're gone. Please, Oliver, I'm begging you," Ben cries. "Look at this face," he continues, pointing to me. I put on my best puppy dog pout. "She's never asked you for anything—"

"—except for a place to live and food to eat," Oliver jokes.

"Technicalities," I defend myself.

"Okay," Oliver finally caves. "I'll call her tonight and tell her that she can only come over when invited. Would that make everyone happy?"

"Yes!" Ben says happily, already reaching for his phone.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I cry and wrap my arms around him tightly. I suddenly realize what I'm doing and back away embarrassed. Ben just smirks at us.

"So, I...um, kind of have a favor to ask you, Katie," Oliver admits, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

"Anything," I reply.

"The guys on the team are starting to think that I've just made you up and I was wondering if you'd maybe help me prove them wrong."

"Of course!" I laugh. "Just give me a time and a place."

"Okay, um…tonight?"

"Tonight? How long have you put off asking me?"

"Well, for a while. I didn't want to make Jai mad, but there's this charity ball tonight for the team and I just thought it would be nice for people to see us out together in public."

"It sounds great," I answer.

"Mallory's not answering her phone," Ben pouts, putting his mobile down on the table.

"When did she learn how to use one?" Oliver asks amused.

"Well, I had to teach her with Jai around all of the time."

"If Mallory would just stop being stubborn…"

"Drop it, please," Ben begs.

"Fine. So, Katie, is the couch still working for you? The offer to trade still stands."

"Please don't trade," Ben begs. "The last thing I need is to walk in on Oliver shagging Jai on our couch."

"I'm fine with the couch," I answer.

"And you two aren't having any problems sharing a bathroom?"

"Ah," Ben groans.

"Oh, shut up," I argue. "I was fully clothed."

"But you almost weren't! That could have been bad."

"Don't even go blaming this on me," I retort. "The door was locked and the bathroom water was running. That should have been enough to tip you off that I was in there."

"It was late—I wasn't thinking!"

"What's going on?" Oliver asks exasperated.

"He walked in on me when I was getting ready to shower a few nights ago. He's just being a baby—I was fully clothed."

"It was late," he repeats. "I'd forgotten she was here, so I just unlocked the door and walked in."

"We have an agreement now, though," I assure Oliver. "We knock."

"Well I'm glad you worked that out so magnificently. Maybe you _should _have your own bathroom."

"I'm up for that," Ben agrees. "It's much safer. As long as you can promise me that I won't have to walk in on Jai, because that would probably kill me."

"Okay, then. I guess that'll work."

"I'm serious, mate. Promise. I'd much rather walk in on Katie than Jai."

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," I mutter.

"I promise," Oliver says and rolls his eyes.

--

"Oliver?" I ask warily, knocking on his bedroom door a few hours later. He'd told me to be ready at eight, but he'd failed to mention exactly what I was supposed to wear. Of course, he had used the word 'ball', but I'm not about to hunt down a gown unless I'm absolutely positive.

There's no answer. I knock once more. Still nothing. Maybe he's asleep or something…I really should wake him if he is. We're supposed to leave in just a few hours. I knock once more for good measure and then slowly open the door.

I step into the room cautiously, but it doesn't take me long to realize where Oliver is. I hear his shower running. Unable to stop myself, my eyes turn toward the bathroom and I immediately feel my cheeks flame as I notice that the door isn't shut.

It takes me surprisingly little time to realize what I'm seeing. Without the door blocking my view, I have a clear line of sight right to the glass shower. And Oliver inside it.

My breath catches in my throat as I take in the sight of his body, so foreign to me. I've felt lust before, but never has it felt so raw, so uncontained. All I want to do at this moment is join him in that shower.

I'm snapped out of my fantasy, however, when I hear a loud crack coming from down that hall. Fearing being caught in this position, I scramble from Oliver's room just in time to catch sight of Ben rushing towards his long-lost girlfriend. I'm barely out of the hallway before his lips are crushing hers.

Sure, they're cute, but couples are depressing me at this moment. Fearing for my own sanity, I Apparate to my old flat. Either Angelina or Alicia is bound to have a nice gown…

--

After dolling me up (apparently, it's my gift to them for not visiting in over a week), Angelina and Alicia release me back into the world and I Apparate back to Oliver's just as the clock strikes eight.

"Thank God," Oliver says from the couch. "I thought that you were going to stand me up." He turns to face me with a grin and I watch with pleasure as his jaw drops.

"Is it too nice?" I ask, looking down at myself.

"N-No," he answers, slowly standing up from the couch. "It's perfect." I give him a small smile and look down at myself once more.

The dress Angelina had given me is apparently one that she wore to a Harpies charity ball just a few weeks prior. After seeing myself in the dress, I'm not sure I'm going to let her have it back.

It's a dark blue, floor length gown that fits me just right. Although I'm normally nervous about wearing strapless things, it hugs me comfortably. The bust and the hemline are embroidered and beaded intricately. Alicia topped it off with a matching choker. How they manage to dress me so well, I'll never know.

"So," Oliver says finally, clearing his throat. "Are you ready to go?"

"Uh, yeah," I say, walking forward to grab his proffered arm. I can't keep the smile off of my face as we Disapparate together.

As we walk into the ballroom, I can't ignore the stares that follow us. "You're a very popular man, Oliver Wood," I whisper in his ear as eye after eye follows us to our table.

He just chuckles slightly as we sit down at a table empty except for one couple. I instantly recognize the girl from working at the _Prophet_: Puddlemere's Seeker, Amanda Withers. Upon seeing us, she instantly stops her conversation with who I assume is her boyfriend and turns to Oliver with a broad grin on her face.

"You did ditch the bitch!" she cries happily, moving over several seats so that she is sitting directly next to me. Her boyfriend looks over at Oliver apologetically, but moves next to Amanda nevertheless. "I thought you were a figure of his imagination," she tells me. "Amanda Withers."

"Katie Bell," I reply, shaking her hand.

"Wow, you're gorgeous," she says, still in shock, looking up at Oliver for conformation.

"She is," he agrees and puts his arms around my shoulder possessively. I can already tell that this is going to be a good night.

"And you've known him for a while, right?' she questions excitedly. "Since your school days? You actually fell in love with this loser _before_ he was famous. That's amazing!"

"Forgive her," the guy next to Amanda says, pulling her away from me slightly in order for me to regain my personal space. "She's sick of me and is choosing to live vicariously through her teammates. I'm Brent Roberson."

"That's not true!" Amanda says, turning away from me to assure Brent. "I love you."

Oliver takes that moment to whisper into my ear. "They're getting married in May. She thinks she'll be able to help you with our wedding plans." I look over at him worriedly. He grins at me lightly and I can't help but notice that this is the happiest that I've seen him in quite a while.

"Kevin, Kevin, over here!" Amanda suddenly calls across the room. Several people turn to stare at her, but none of them seem too agitated. She's famous and this is a charity event, after all.

I turn to stare at Kevin Roe, Puddlemere's other Beater. I'm actually surprised at how large he is. Sure he looks big in the air, but it's an entirely different thing seeing him in person. He looks when his name's called, but seeing that it's only Amanda, he ignores her and turns back to the conversation that he's having. Several seconds later, he does a massive double take and stares straight at me. Forgetting the man in front of him, he grabs who I recognize from pictures as his wife and comes over to the table, taking the seat on the other side of Oliver.

"You must be Katie Bell," he greets happily. "I'm Kevin Roe and this is my wife Layla." I say hello to them both and then listen amused when Kevin starts picking on Oliver.

"How much did you have to pay to get her to come with you tonight, Ol?"

"10 galleons," I answer without missing a beat and Kevin's booming laugh fills the room.

"Yeah, funny," Oliver says, looking pointedly at me. I nudge his shoulder playfully.

It doesn't take long after that before the three Chasers show up: Nolan Brinkley, Jarrod King, and Clark James. Each of them has a girl attached to his arm, but I know from what tabloids and Ben have told me that all of them are single. It also doesn't take me very long in his presence to figure out that mousy little Clark has a major crush on Amanda. Poor guy; he has absolutely no hope. I wish I actually had some single girlfriends—I would definitely try to help the guy out.

After all of the introductions are made, I stay as silent as the team will let me, not really wanting to intrude into Oliver's private world. I'm easily distracted from the conversation anyway, by the fact that Oliver hasn't removed his arm from my shoulder once. He just lets me sit, nuzzling closer to him the colder I get. It feels completely natural.

Our food arrives shortly after and I'm forced to sit up straight in my seat. Only a few bites into my food, I catch Oliver staring at me.

"What?" I ask between mouthfuls of chicken.

"Are you good? Are you having fun?"

"I'm fine, Oliver," I assure him with a laugh. He gives my hand a gentle squeeze under the table and then resumes listening to Nolan's story about a rabid pack of fan girls. I try to listen as much as possible, but I can't stop my mind from wandering, especially after what I saw of Oliver this afternoon.

If there is ever a perfect time to try to get Oliver to see reason, then it must be tonight. The food's taken away about an hour later and several couples around the room hit the dance floor. None of the team moves, however, and Oliver lets me know that they're supposed to stay in their seats until the Manager gives his speech. I look across the room at Manager Jenkins and notice that he looks to be on about his fifth glass of wine. I figure I still have a while before I can dance with Oliver.

Realizing that there's really not a chance of getting rejected seeing as how we're supposed to be engaged, I scoot my chair closer to Oliver and lean onto his shoulder. He doesn't even stop whatever he's saying, but just puts his arm around me.

As soon as someone else starts talking, however, he looks down at me questioningly. Not as if he's upset, just curious. I simply smile up at him and enjoy the feel of him against me.

Jenkins eventually manages to remove himself from his table long enough to deliver a speech that only sounds as if he's slightly drunk. After he sits back down, the team slowly gets up one couple at a time and disappears onto the dance floor.

"You want to dance?" Oliver finally asks me and I nod. He laughs lightly at that—remembering my dance skills, I suppose—but leads me onto the floor nonetheless.

"You really do look beautiful tonight, Katie," he says as he spins me around.

"You look quite dashing yourself," I can't help but add.

"I'm sorry I haven't been around much lately."

"You've been busy."

"That's not an excuse."

"No, but Jaiden is."

"Can we please not talk about her?" Oliver asks a few seconds later. I nod slowly, but then realize that I have more to add.

"Wait…just one more thing. You lied to me. When we kissed that one time, you said you were cheating on her. You weren't. She said that you had never had an exclusive relationship."

Oliver closes his eyes for a second and then opens them once more so that I can stare into his hazel orbs.

"I was just scared."

"Of what?"

"Of you! You scare me to death, Katie. I don't know what I'm doing half the time around you."

"Is that a-a bad thing?"

"I don't know," he sighs. "I haven't exactly figured that out yet."

"Oh, well…sorry."

"Apology accepted," he jokes and I can't help but laugh.

"So, do I make you nervous?" I question, unabashedly stepping closer to him.

"Well, you are right now," he answers but I feel his hands travel slightly lower on my hips, drawing me nearer.

"You know what I think we should do?' I whisper, never taking my eyes off of his.

"What's that?"

"Kiss. Just to convince everyone we're not faking, you know."

"Just for the benefit of our lie, of course."

"Of course," I breath and in that brief second his lips meet mine.

--

Oliver and I get home around two in the morning, both of us happier than we've been in a while. My head is so full that even after a shower and a snack, I still can't fall asleep. Not even Bludger's rhythmic breathing on my bed next to me lulls me off like it does every other night.

Looking for something to occupy my time, I flip the television on and immediately mute it. Sometimes, I just like looking at the pictures. It's something my mum used to do. She claimed that the sounds hurt her ears, but she thought the pictures were simply magical.

"Katie, what are you doing awake?" I turn around to find Oliver making his way over to me.

"Just couldn't sleep," I answer. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. I was already up." He walks forward and pulls his dog off of my bed so that he can have the spot next to me. "You must have supersonic hearing," he says, gesturing to the TV.

"It's on mute. I like the pictures."

"You are so weird," he says with a laugh. I just shrug. It's all I can do at the moment because I want so bad to cuddle next to Oliver like he allowed me to do at the ball. "So listen, I just wanted to let you know that I'm sorry Jai's been around here so much lately. I know that you're not exactly very fond of her. You should have said something sooner, though. I want you to be as comfortable as possible here."

"It wasn't a big deal," I shrug.

"She's a really great girl. She just—"

"Oliver, please don't defend her. She doesn't like me and I don't like her. I don't really see that changing anytime soon, no matter what you say."

"It could change, though! If you'd just—" I silence him with a glare. "I don't understand why you can't at least try to get along with her."

"I don't understand how you _can_ get along with her," I reply.

"Come on. Give me one legitimate reason why you don't like her and I'll leave you alone."

"She's too pretty," I try. "Honestly! She's like a freakin' robot or something. No, wait! Like one of those mannequins—the kind that look like they could come alive at any moment. She's a living mannequin!"

"You're just as pretty as she is—does that make you a mannequin, too?"

"Do I look like a mannequin?" I laugh.

"No," he answers and startles me by taking my hand in his. "You don't feel like a mannequin either. Give me another reason."

"Well, Mallory doesn't like her."

"That's not your battle to fight."

"She told you I was sleeping with Ben."

"Misunderstanding."

"…Fred doesn't like her."

"Okay, Fred doesn't like her because you don't like her. Plus, Fred doesn't like me either."

"Sure he does. He just pretends to hate your guts," I say.

"Katie, what's the real reason?" he asks seriously.

"You wouldn't want me to tell you."

"Trust me—I would."

I look him straight in the eyes and, knowing that I'm probably going to regret this later, I raise my lips to his for the second time that night. It takes him a few seconds to respond and surprisingly it's not the reaction I was expecting.

He kisses me back.

He pulls me onto his lap as I wind my fingers into his hair. Just when I think that he's going to forget about Jai and just let me kiss him, he pulls away.

"Katie…" he starts, but doesn't seem to know what else to say.

"Let me guess," I say, pulling myself off of his lap and laying moodily back down on my pillows. "Was that just another mistake?"

"I don't know," he answers while still trying to catch his breath.

And then, much to my immense surprise, he's kissing me again—fiercer and more ardent this time. I put everything into that kiss, pulling him down on top of me and trying to tell him without words just how much I want this. After a few minutes, however, he pulls back again.

"I'm sorry, Katie. I just can't do this right now." He disappears into his bedroom and as much as I want to stop him, I can't think of any words to bring him back. Within seconds, Bludger has taken his place.

--

_Next time on _Love and War_: Charlie, Leanne, and a break-up. _


	18. Changes

_--_

_Changes:_

I wake up the next morning with my head pounding. I sit up slowly, trying to push away the memories from the night before.

The humiliation of my situation hits me hard and I want nothing more than to leave; but I would never do that to Oliver or his family. I can't go anywhere until he tells me to.

I lift myself up from my bed and take in my surroundings. I hear water running from a distance, so that must be where Ben is. Knowing that I probably only have a few minutes to myself, I head straight to _my_ private bathroom in order to comprise my thoughts. As much as I try to push the memories away, however, they refuse to go.

Hoping maybe the previous night can be dislodged by force, I begin pounding my head on the wall. Suddenly, a knock interrupts my remedy.

"Katie, are you okay?" Ben's asks worriedly.

"No," I groan back.

"Well, is this a physical or emotional pain? Because I don't think I'm going to be much use unless you're bleeding."

"I'm fine, Ben," I say through clenched teeth.

"Whatever," he says and I can hear his footsteps retreat down the hallway.

I take a deep breath and step out into the apartment, only half aware of the unkempt state of my hair and clothing.

"Whoa, what happened to you?" Ben asks as I take a seat at the kitchen table.

"Fuck off," I mutter.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?"

"Nothing!" I insist in such a way that it's obvious that I'm lying.

"Mallory's coming over," he says cheerfully, trying to distract me from my current predicament.

"Yay," I mutter. My feelings about couples really haven't changed that much in the past 24 hours.

"Okay, if you're not going to tell me what's wrong, then can you at least stop being a bitch?"

"Right now? No. I think I need a little fresh air…I'll be back in a few hours."

Ben looks at me as if I've completely lost my mind and I can't say that I really blame him. "Katie, be honest with me here. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I insist. "I just need to get out of here for a little while. Have fun with Mallory."

He just nods mutely and I put on enough clothing to keep me warm in the chilly weather. Before Ben can say anything to stop me, I leave the house.

The sharp sting of winter takes me briefly by surprise. I inhale deeply and without even thinking, I take off towards a park I used to go to a lot when I was kid. Granted, I normally went during the summer but it is close and it'll give me a place to think.

The park's almost empty when I arrive but within a few hours, there are people everywhere. Even in the dead of winter, children still want to go outside. And dogs too, it seems. I should have brought Bludger.

The hours continue to pass and I take to people-watching. About three hours after I first arrive, someone sits down next to me on my bench. I don't even have to turn around to know that it's Leanne.

"This brings back memories," she mutters. "We used to come here all the time, just watching the people."

"And picking out which guys we were going to marry," I add.

"I'd forgotten about that," she laughs. "God, it's cold out here, Katie. What are you doing?"

"See that couple over there," I say, ignoring her last question and pointing to a man and woman in their early thirties, snuggling closer as the temperature continues to drop.

"He has a wedding ring," Leanne notes.

"And she doesn't," I add with a laugh.

"What are you doing here?" she asks once again.

"I just needed to think," I mutter. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Ben was worried about you…"

"I didn't mean to worry him. I've just been cooped up in that house too long."

"I know," she assures me, gently placing her hand on my knee.

We sit in silence for a few minutes as I try to gain control of my thoughts.

"Katie, please tell me what's wrong," she begs.

"I kissed Oliver," I finally admit and Leanne stares back at me wide-eyed. Suddenly, I can't stop talking. "And he kissed me back! Twice. Well, actually three times but that's including at the ball. And we were pretending to be engaged, you know, so I don't think that really counts."

"Okay, I think I'm behind here. I didn't even know that you still had feelings for him!"

"Oh…yeah, I do. I would have told you, but I didn't want to freak you out anymore than you had to be before your wedding. I don't think that I'm ever going to get over him, Leanne. It's just not fair, you know? I'm so much better for him than Jai—_so much better_. She's in love with Ben. Did you know that?"

"She's in love with—? But Katie, he kissed you back. That _has_ to mean something."

"I don't know…He hasn't said anything to Cullen has he?"

"I don't think they've talked much since we got back from our honeymoon."

"Probably not," I mutter. "I haven't seen you much either. Cullen's hogging all of your time."

She smiles, but the joy doesn't reach her eyes. It's then that I notice I'm obviously not the only person who needs help today.

"Leanne, what's wrong?" I ask, forgetting my own problems. Her eyes immediately fill with unshed tears and I pull her closer to me. How could I have been so selfish as to not have seen this before? "Is it Cullen? What did he do to you because I swear I'll kick his ass?"

"No, no," she chokes out. "He didn't do anything—he's perfect."

"Then what's wrong? Come on, Leanne. You're scaring me."

"I'm pregnant," she finally whispers. My heart skips a beat. What?

"Oh my God, Leanne. That's great," I say, still slightly in shock.

"No, it's not, Katie! Don't you see? I don't want to bring a baby into this War. And Cullen and I just got married. It's too soon. It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

"Well, maybe it's just a false alarm."

"I'm three weeks late and the Healer at St. Mungo's confirmed it."

"Does Cullen know?" I ask, at a loss for anything else to say.

"No! And I'm not about to tell him. This is not his problem."

"Like hell it's not! Are you daft, Leanne? Of course it's his problem. You didn't get yourself pregnant!"

"I don't want to scare him," she admits.

"He'd want to know."

"I know," Leanne sighs and I fold her into my arms once more.

--

I drop Leanne off at her house a few hours later and make my way back to Oliver's flat as night is falling. I debate for a second about stopping by the Weasley's to waste time, but quickly decide against it. I'm going to have to deal with Oliver eventually—better sooner than later.

I let myself into his flat. The first thing I notice upon entering is Oliver watching television on the couch. Our eyes meet for one endless second.

I look away just in time to catch a flash of red hair from the kitchen. I crinkle my eyebrows in confusion, wondering why Fred would be here, until I realize that Fred's shoulders are definitely not that broad.

"Charlie?" I question out loud.

The man turns around to face me and I recognize Charlie Weasley instantly, even if he does have a doughnut sticking halfway out of his mouth.

"Hi," he mumbles through his mouthful of food.

"There you are," Ben says, coming in from the kitchen. "I sent Leanne after you. Did she—?"

"She found me," I assure him, still slightly shell-shocked. I don't take my eyes off of Charlie.

"Never do that again. I was bloody worried about you."

"Ben, I'm fine," I promise. What the hell is Charlie doing here?

Since no one bothers to explain anything to me, I head for the kitchen where I hear Mallory banging away over the stove.

"Do you need any help?" I ask. She looks at me and smirks. I roll my eyes. "Please," I beg.

"You can cut some things for me. Do you know the spell?"

"That I actually do know how to do," I admit. She pushes some vegetables towards me and I get to work.

"So, have you talked to him since the wedding?" Mallory asks once all three guys are discussing what sounds like Quidditch from the living room.

"He's written a few times—nothing serious. I stopped replying once I moved in here. Does he think that Oliver and I are engaged?"

Slowly, Mallory nods.

"Damn," I mutter. Now I don't even have Charlie to get my mind off of last night; not that that would be a good plan in the first place. "You know, maybe that's best."

"Quite possibly," Mallory laughs. I push her playfully.

After I finish my chopping, I just sit on the counter watching Mallory, doing small tasks for her whenever she asks me to.

"He _is_ eating dinner here, just so you know, but I think he's leaving after that," she says after several minutes of silence.

"Well, I can make it through one meal…"

"Or you could go in there now so that it's not quite as awkward when we all finally sit down to eat."

I think about it for a few seconds and decide that she's probably right.

"Fine," I relent, jumping down from the counter. "But try to have dinner ready soon, okay?"

"I'll try," she laughs as I head for the door. "And don't forget to pretend you're engaged."

"Shit!" I say, leaping back from the door as if it had burned me. "I can't do that!" I run back to the counter and hop onto it again, wrapping my arms around my knees.

"What is your problem?" she asks, obviously amused.

"Oliver," I mumble.

"Oliver? Katie, honey, I swear I don't understand you at all sometimes."

"We kissed last night," I admit.

The spoon that Mallory had been using to stir one of her pots slips from her grasp and drops into the concoction. She leaves it there and turns to me. "You did what?"

"We kissed," I repeat.

"Oh my God!" she shrills excitedly. The conversation from the next room comes to a halt. I panic.

"I know. I couldn't believe it either—2 sickles a pound!" I say just loud enough for the next room to hear.

"Sorry," she mouths. I just laugh. "Seriously though! That means Jaiden is out of the picture. You've made me a seriously happy person, Katie Bell."

"Yeah, not so fast. After we kissed he stormed out and we haven't talked since."

"Hence you not being able to go in there…"

"Yeah…"

The kitchen door is suddenly pushed open and Charlie walks in. Mallory immediately turns back to her cooking.

"Katie, I think we need to talk," he says, grinning at me sheepishly.

"Yeah, listen, Charlie—"

"No, let me go first. Do you regret what we did at Cullen's wedding?"

"Um...no," I answer, not quite sure of where this is going.

"Then we have nothing to be ashamed of! Katie, I had a great time with you when I was here, but we both knew that it wasn't going to grow into anything. You don't need to feel bad about moving on with your life."

"I know that. I just—"

"I'm happy for you and Oliver. And I want you to know that there are no hard feelings."

"I know, Charlie. That wasn't really the problem, though. I just felt guilty for not telling you about us," I admit, coming as close to the truth as I can. "Plus, it's just kind of an awkward situation."

"Yeah, just a bit," he admits with a laugh. His eyes slowly travel down to my left hand and I show him the ring. "That's some rock."

"Isn't it, though?" I reply bitterly.

"He is very much in love with you."

"He is; I'm a lucky girl." Charlie nods his head and then excuses himself for the next room after getting a Butterbeer.

"You see my problem?" I ask Mallory.

"I am starting to…"

--

Dinner was a rather subdued affair. Ben and Mallory tried to carry on a conversation while the rest of us kept our mouths closed as often as possible. Charlie and I put in our two cents every once in a while, but I don't think that Oliver said one word all night.

After dinner, Charlie excused himself—apparently he has Order business to do in the city. He gave me one last hug and promised to write. I returned the promise and swore to myself that I would follow through this time.

I helped Mallory clean up while Ben and Oliver got settled in the living room. We joined them a few minutes later, both of us taking a seat on the couch since Oliver and Ben seem to find it too awkward to sit on the same piece of furniture that I sleep on.

"Well, I thought that that was quite enjoyable," Mallory says when no one speaks.

"I agree," Ben says happily. "I'm just glad you're coming back over now."

"It's not my fault I couldn't be here," she says stiffly, looking directly at Oliver.

"Don't give me that, Mal. She's not coming around anymore. You're in the clear."

"You may say she's not coming, but the girl doesn't know how to stay away," Mallory retorts.

"She's gone for good, I promise. I broke up with her last night." My eyes snap to Oliver's, but he doesn't look my way. He didn't just say what I think he said, did he? This has to be too good to be true.

"You-You broke up with her?" Ben stutters, overjoyed. "So the guys on the team finally told you what's been going on?"

"What? You mean the fact that she's been in love with you for months and has slept with Nolan? Yeah, I didn't need anyone to tell me that."

"She slept with Nolan? Why did no one tell _me_ that?" Ben cries.

"Wasn't the proudest moment of my life. That's why we were having that row a few months ago."

"Oh, so that's why you decided to snog Katie back in July," Ben says smugly. I just glare at him. "Why'd you stay with her for so long, mate?"

"I honestly don't know."

Ben hounds him for a few more minutes, but I stop listening. I'm sick of hearing about Jaiden and how horribly she treated Oliver. I just want to forget.

"Ben," Mallory finally interrupts his rant. "Come with me, will you?" She leaves the room and Ben follows behind her unquestioningly. It takes me a few seconds to realize that Oliver and I are alone. My first instinct is to run, but I fight the temptation and remain seated. I need to stop running.

"I'm sorry," I finally say.

"For what?' he asks and I can tell that he's honestly confused.

"I feel like this is my fault," I admit. "You and Jaiden breaking up."

"Well, it kind of is," he says, getting up and taking the empty seat next to me. "But in a good way." He takes my left hand in his and runs his fingers casually over the engagement ring still sitting there. "This ring was never meant for Jai. I lied; I never meant to marry her. I hope you can forgive me."

"Oliver, what are you talking about?"

"When I kissed you in July, Jai and I were broken up. Her sleeping with one of my teammates wasn't something I was going to tolerate. After me and you kissed, I just panicked. I figured that you couldn't actually still like me, so I got back together with Jai to make you jealous."

"That's stupid," I groan. "Oliver, are you saying that we could have been together this _whole_ time?"

"I don't know…Did you like me then?"

"Of course I liked you then! I don't typically go around snogging guys I don't like," I argue.

"Fred Weasley during my seventh year," he corrects me. "Plus, weren't you going out with Lee when we kissed?"

"We were just dating. My feelings for you never went away, Oliver."

"Can I tell you something that's probably going to freak you out a bit?" I just nod. "I've had this ring since seventh year," he says, holding my hand up for emphasis. "I never really planned on asking you then, but I always assumed I would. One day. That ring was meant for you."

Suddenly, the ring on my hand isn't nearly as heavy as it had been before.

"I'm in love with you, Katie," he continues. "My feelings for you could never change."

My head stops working and I can't even string together two words.

"I love you, too," I finally say with a smile. His hand's still in mine and although I want to pull him closer, the embarrassment from the night before stops me.

Oliver, however, has a different idea and leans towards me until there's barely an inch of space between us. "Can I kiss you?" he whispers in my ear.

"Of course," I reply.

He wraps his arms around me and gently kisses my lips. The sweetness of it overwhelms me.

"Aw!" I hear two voices say from the doorway and Oliver and I reluctantly pull apart. My cheeks heat up at the sight of Ben and Mallory, but Oliver keeps his arm firmly wrapped around me.

"So, this means Jaiden is definitely never coming back, right?" Mallory asks with a broad grin plastered onto her face like a kid at Christmas. Oliver throws a pillow from the couch at the couple; they move out of the way.

"Fine, be like that," Ben says. "You were nicer when you were dating Jai."

"Ben!" Mallory and I cry.

"Just kidding," he laughs. He smiles at us once more before ushering Mallory back into his room.

Instantly, Oliver presses his lips once more onto mine, surprising me.

"What was that for?" I ask.

"Just making sure that I'm not dreaming." I can't help but smile as I lean forward to kiss him again.

--

_Next time on _Love and War_: The war moves a little closer to home._

**Okay, so I start school again Monday and I honestly don't know when I'll be updating again. Hopefully in a week, but I really don't know what to expect. I'm starting the IB program and they say that's pretty hard… If anyone reading this is in IB, let me know what it's like. I will seriously love you forever.**

**Also, I know that Fred, George, Angelina, and Alicia haven't been in this story for a while, but don't worry. We're about to get back to normal...ish.**

**So, I think I should get some reviews for this chapter—something to keep me going my first week in school :) Katie and Oliver are finally together. Show me how happy you are!**

**Review!**


	19. Tragedy

**A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update. I swear I'm back on schedule now. On another note, Fred's patronus is mentioned in this chapter. I did not, however, give it a form. The shape of his patronus is never mentioned in the books and the animal that I think would work best—a fox—is already taken by Seamus Finnigan. So when you read that part, you can imagine his patronus as anything that you want.**

**--**

_Tragedy:_

What is it about being at Oliver's and waking up far too early? I mean, really. There's barely been a day when I've been able to sleep past noon. I guess that's what I get for sleeping on the couch without four walls around me to keep the noise out.

Needless to say, today was no different.

A noise that can only be described as cheering startles me awake. Thinking that I'd just left the television on a little too loud, I bury my head under my blankets and try to go back to sleep.

"Katie, Katie, guess what?!" An excited Ben screams and I can feel his weight plop down on my bed. I groan incoherently.

"Ben, tell her later," Oliver laughs. At the sound of his voice, a sudden warmth washes through my body. I slowly pull the covers off of my head and smile softly at Oliver. He smiles back at me knowingly and I realize that the previous night was no dream.

"No way," Ben argues, oblivious to Oliver and my silent exchange. "This is too good to wait for her to wake up! That could take hours."

"What is so important that it couldn't wait a few hours to tell me then, Ben?" I ask with a scowl.

"I'm free!" Ben cries. I look at Oliver for help deciphering Ben's enthusiasm, but he just smiles back at me.

"What are you talking about?"

"Look!" he cries and I grab the copy of the _Daily Prophet_ that he has clutched in his hand.

The picture on the front shows Pius Thicknesse gesticulating wildly. I tear my gaze from him to examine the headline:

_**Quidditch Players Proven to Have Wizarding Blood**_

_Several players from the International Quidditch League were accused of being Muggleborns a few weeks ago. These accusations, after intense research, have been proven false and all of the said "Muggleborns" have been freed. The Ministry apologizes for this embarrassing blunder._

_Broom Manufacturer Basil Horton claims that in order to fly a broomstick with the exceptional skill demonstrated by these players, they must have magic bred into their blood. Such talent as this can not be stolen from others. A total of twelve "Muggleborn" Quidditch players have had their lineage traced back and have been reinstated on their various Quidditch teams across the country._

_Quidditch will resume for the general public shortly._

This news is followed by a list of the players now once again eligible to participate in Quidditch. Ben's name is on it. I re-read the article in shock and slowly turn to the two men staring at me.

"Okay, congratulations and everything, Ben, but that's total bullshit," I say as gently as I know how to.

"I know! Isn't it great?" I can't help but laugh along with Oliver at the look on his teammate's face. "I get to play Quidditch again!"

"Yeah, I think that's the whole purpose of this," Oliver scoffs. "Get things back to semi-normal in our world."

"I don't care why they're doing it! I'm going to go call Mallory—no, I'm going to go to Mallory's! This is great!"

Ben can barely contain his excitement as he Disapparates.

"I'm happy for him," I tell Oliver once he's gone.

"I am too, but it doesn't change the fact that this isn't fair. There are still a lot of Muggleborns out there," he answers and climbs onto my bed next to me. I scoot over to make room for him and rest my head lightly on his shoulder, not really sure if it's the right thing to do this early in the relationship. I'm surprised when he wraps his arm around me.

I'm never going to get used to this.

Suddenly, Bludger jumps onto the couch, startling us apart. Oliver groans in annoyance and tries to push him off. The massive dog just growls at him and curls up next to my side.

"He likes me better than you," I brag.

"Yeah, because you feed him table scraps. Which he's not supposed to have, by the way."

"Okay, you can't blame me for that! He always looks so hungry, don't you baby?" I ask, rubbing the dog's ears.

"A letter came for you," Oliver says after a while, pulling an envelope out of his pocket.

"How long have you been hiding that?" I ask with a smirk.

"Only a few days," he defends himself. "I just didn't want you to leave."

I crinkle my eyebrows in confusion and grab the letter from him. I tear it open and immediately recognize what it is by the Ministry of Magic stationary that it is printed on.

"My hearing's January twenty-second," I announce with a mixture of happiness, anxiety, and dejection.

"I know," Oliver mutters.

"You read my mail?" I accuse playfully.

"Yeah, re-sealed it too. The twenty-second is a month form today, Katie. When you're cleared, you're free to go back to Angelina and Alicia."

The thought of going back to Angelina and Alicia has roughly the same effect as the announcement of my trial date. On the one hand, I really will enjoy going back to my two best friends. I've seriously been lacking in the estrogen department lately. But on the other hand, I don't want to leave Oliver. At all. I'm too scared that something is going to happen to him if I leave.

Wait…

"A month?!" I cry shocked. "That means Christmas is in three days."

"You didn't know that?"

"Oh my God, I haven't bought any presents!"

"Calm down, babe," he says, kissing the top of my head and that does help me relax just a bit. "Everyone will understand. You're not in the most convenient situation right now."

"I can't just not give people presents, Oliver! I want things to be as normal as possible."

He just rolls his eyes at me and I hit him hard on the arm.

"Don't make fun of me!" I cry.

"I was not making fun of you," he laughs. "And Ow! Who taught you to hit like that?"

"I don't know. Probably you. You _were_ always telling me to be more aggressive."

Oliver chuckles to himself softly and pulls me forward, placing a gentle kiss on my lips. "Stay with me today," he whispers. "We have the house to ourselves."

Although the offer is tempting, I know that I can't. "I have to go shopping, Oliver. I'm sorry. But I'll be back in a few hours—I promise."

"You better be," he says as he lets me go. "And don't buy me anything."

"Whatever you want, Your Highness," I joke.

--

I arrive at my old flat a few minutes later and, rather than Apparating straight in as I usually do, I pause to knock on the door. I haven't been over here in months. Angelina peers behind the curtains and, upon seeing me, begins hastily undoing the locks.

"Katie!" she cries enthusiastically, launching herself at me. "God, I haven't seen you in forever!"

"I know!" I say as she moves aside to let me in. Although the room is a bit messier than the last time I'd been here, nothing much seems to have changed. "Where is everyone?" I ask when Fred doesn't immediately come bounding out of a corner.

"Alicia's at the shop with the twins and, last I checked, Lee's at the Lupins'. So what are you doing here?"

"I, um, kind of need help with some last minute Christmas shopping," I reply sheepishly.

"I thought you might be by soon. I'll just grab my coat," Angelina laughs.

A few minutes later, we're walking through the streets of Hogsmeade which, like Diagon Alley, is constantly guarded by various 'Ministry Officials.' Hogsmeade, however, isn't as bad as Diagon Alley and it provides a slightly more enjoyable shopping experience.

Not that I knew any of this, but Angelina did. I haven't been shopping since I left for Oliver's.

"Why'd you put your shopping off this late?' Angelina asks as we traverse the nearly empty streets. "I know that you don't enjoy it, but this is hitting a new low even for you."

"I just forgot," I defend myself. "I've had a lot on my mind lately." I deliberately choose not to elaborate on that topic.

"Well then, where do you want to go first?"

"Zonko's," I reply easily. "For Fred and George."

"They're not going to like you buying a rival business's products," she argues warily.

"On the contrary," I defend my decision. "They like to study Zonko's products but they have a lifelong ban from the store. I'm doing them a favor."

Angelina rolls her eyes, but we head to Zonko's nonetheless. I stock up on some of their newer products and then head to a dress boutique down the street to shop for Alicia. Lee's a little harder to buy for considering not only our past, but also the fact that he's still broadcasting Potterwatch from a different location every week. I finally decide on some defense mechanisms that he can travel with.

I go into shop after shop and also purchase a book Mallory has been wanting, some Quidditch supplies for Ben, and jewelry for Leanne.

With only Angelina and Oliver left to shop for, we head into the Three Broomsticks for a quick Butterbeer.

"My trial's a month from today," I announce after taking the first few sips. A smile spreads across Angelina's face as she swallows her drink.

"Oh my God! That's so great. There's no way they won't clear you—Oliver's mum is testifying, right?"

"Yeah, she is," I mutter.

"Okay, what's wrong?" she asks, taking in the look on my face. "You should be happier about this. You'll get to move back in with Alicia and me."

A smile breaks across my face and I can't hold the information in any longer. "I'm back together with Oliver," I admit.

Angelina's eyes widen in shock. "No you're not!" she exclaims happily.

"I am!"

"Fred's going to kill you!" she laughs. I can't help but join in.

"I know, isn't it great?!"

"You're seriously happy about this," she comments after a while. "I haven't seen you this happy in a long time."

"I am," I agree. "But I've still got to buy gifts for both you and Oliver, so that's guaranteed to crush my mood a bit."

"Well, on that note, I saw some really awesome Omnioculars in Quality Quidditch Supplies that I would kill for…and they're on sale."

"Okay, I get the hint," I laugh. "But what should I get Oliver?"

"Can't help you there, babe."

We walk across the street into Quality Quidditch Supplies and I leave Angelina alone to pick out the color Omnioculars that she wants. I aimlessly begin perusing the store. It may seem generic and not romantic at all, but there's nothing Oliver's going to want for Christmas that doesn't have _something_ to do with Quidditch.

After only a few minutes, I'm ready to give up. Sure, I played Quidditch at Hogwarts for six years but I don't understand what half of the stuff in this store is supposed to do.

"Can I help you?" a saleslady finally comes over to ask me.

"I'm just trying to find a gift for someone," I mutter.

"Perhaps I can be of assistance. Does this person enjoy playing Quidditch?" No duh. Why else would I walk into Quality Quidditch Supplies?

"You could say that," I smirk. "He plays for Puddlemere United."

"Oh!" she says, surprised. "He plays professionally? Well, if you'll give me the name, I can pull up his wish list."

"Excuse me?" I ask.

"The wish list!" she exclaims as if I'm the most idiotic person that she's ever met. "Every professional player fills out a wish list. When they play well, we occasionally send them free gifts off of their list. Now, name?"

"Um…Oliver Wood." She smiles at me brightly and summons a piece of parchment into her hand. She then begins showing me around the store, pointing out items Oliver has on his list. And let me just tell you that I am more convinced now than ever that that boy is crazy.

I finally decide on the best item within my price range. It's some sort of attachment for his broom that's supposed to make it go faster. I didn't even know that you could make something that runs by magic faster. Shows how much I know. I'm sure Oliver could explain it to me…

Grabbing Angelina's omnioculars out of her hands (she decided on a light blue), I pay for my purchases and we make our way back out to the street.

We've barely taken two steps, however, before a cloud of silver shoots in our direction. We stop in surprise as the figure comes to a halt in front of us. The silver cloud hovers and it takes me a few seconds to recognize Fred's patronus. All three of us just stare at each other until the patronus opens his mouth, speaking with Fred's voice.

"Death Eaters at shop. Stay away." And then it disappears.

When I can finally comprehend what I've just been told, I turn to see the look on Angelina's face.

"We have to help them," she says worriedly.

"No, Angelina, we don't," I warn her, grabbing her arm so that she won't Disapparate. "Fred is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and we need to do what he says." Not exactly sure of how to go about doing that, I look around desperately. All the while, Angelina is trying to pull away from me, but I can tell that her heart's not really into it. She may be scared, but she's not stupid.

"Leanne's is right down the street," I finally decide. "C'mon." She follows me unquestioningly and we reach Leanne's without a problem.

I knock on the door and Leanne opens it warily. After asking me to prove my identity, she lets me in.

"What's wrong?" she asks as we enter her home. I just shake my head and lead Angelina into their living room, sitting her down on the couch. Her eyes are still wide with shock and I slowly kneel down to her level, placing my hands on her knees.

"Angelina, honey, are you okay?" She nods, but says nothing to reassure me. Realizing that everyone has different ways of dealing with these things, I leave her alone. I watch with sadness from the doorway as she curls herself into a ball.

I head for the kitchen and Leanne follows me, asking me questions that I can't comprehend all the while. "There are Death Eaters at the twins' shop. Fred just let us know," I explain.

"Oh my God!" she exclaims. "Are they—?"

"We don't know," I answer, willing myself not to show any emotion.

"Well, Cullen's going to be home any minute. Maybe he'll know something." I don't respond.

"I told him, Katie—last night," she continues. "About me being pregnant." I feel a small smile tug at my lips.

"That's so great, Leanne. So, he's happy, right?"

"He is," she answers and I leap up to hug her tightly. "We both are."

We talk about kids for a few minutes and it helps to distract me a bit. When we hear the fireplace coming to life in the next room, we rush over.

"Holy shit, Cullen! You scared me to death!" Angelina is screaming as we enter.

"I'm sorry," Cullen replies as he steps out of the fireplace. Leanne immediately heads over to interrogate him, and I go to Angelina.

"Are you still okay?" I ask, sitting down next to her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just kind of want to be alone right now. I hate not being able to do _anything_."

"I know."

"We have a guest room," Leanne says helpfully. "If you'd like to rest for a bit."

"Yeah, that'd be great," Angelina says, getting up. Leanne shows her to the room and then we all just wait.

The hours pass in near silence with Cullen, Leanne, and I sitting in the living room waiting for any sort of news. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I get lost in my own thoughts.

I faintly hear Leanne and Cullen muttering to each other, but I have no urge to join the conversation. Their phone rings just as the sun's setting and it's only then that I remember that Oliver's probably worried sick about me right now. Cursing myself, I watch as Cullen gets up to answer it.

"Hello?...Yeah, she is…So do you know what's going on?...Yeah, I think Fred warned them or something…I swear she's fine, Oliver. Do you want to talk to her?...Whatever you want." He hangs up and I look over sheepishly.

"Oops," I say. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, Oliver Apparates directly into the room.

"Hey," he says, ignoring both Cullen and Leanne and walking over to me worriedly. I get up from the couch and meet him halfway in a hug. "Are you okay?" he asks and I nod into his shoulder. It's about all that I can do because I can feel my throat swelling. "No, you're not," he contradicts me when my shoulders begin shaking. He leads me out of the room and into another bedroom at the other side of the house.

I take a seat at the foot of the bed and try to rein in my emotions unsuccessfully. I feel warm tears falling down my face as he takes the seat next to me.

"Katie, don't do this to yourself. We don't know what's going on and worrying is not going to help."

"Alicia's there too," I choke out. "I'm just scared."

"I know you are. I am too." He wraps his arms around me and I snuggle in tighter to his side. The first day of us officially being together and this is what happens. God, this is not a good sign.

"I should probably go check on Angelina," I say after a while, hastily trying to wipe the tears from my eyes. I get up, but Oliver pulls me back down again.

"Katie, stop. I don't know if you realize it, but you make it your goal to take care of everyone else. Let me take of you for once."

Knowing it's true, I collapse into his arms and let myself cry.

--

I don't remember falling asleep.

I wearily sit up and look around. It's pitch black, although I'm almost positive there were windows in this room before.

It's late. I jump out of bed and rush towards the living room. Where are Fred, George, and Alicia? They should be back by now.

I sneak past the kitchen, only listening to Leanne and Angelina's conversation long enough to realize that there is still no news. Determined to find Oliver, I head towards the living room. I'm about to turn the corner, but stop upon hearing my name.

"I'm worried about Katie," Oliver says.

"She seems fine," Cullen assures him. "I mean, the waiting is hard, but—"

"No, that's not what I'm talking about. I just mean…what if they don't come back?" My heart stops in my chest at that statement. In all of the scenarios that had played through my head in the past day, that had never even crossed my mind. I don't know why...I guess I'm just naive.

"Don't say that, mate," Cullen warns.

"Seriously, though, what are the chances that the Death Eaters have been there for twelve straight hours? If Fred was okay, he would have contacted us by now. It just doesn't seem right," Oliver explains.

"The twins have come out of tougher situations before," Cullen says, trying to ease Oliver's frame of mind.

"I just can't help worrying because, as much as I hate to admit it, if Fred doesn't come back it's going to tear Katie apart. I don't know if she could live through that."

"She's strong, Oliver—you know that. Where is this coming from?"

"She's just lost everyone, you know," Oliver says sullenly. "She doesn't need to lose anyone else." How does he know me so well?

Not wanting to hear any more, I back up a few steps and walk back down the hall as loudly as possible before entering the living room.

"Why didn't you wake me?" I grumble as if I've just woken up.

"It's too hard," Oliver answers with a shrug and I can't help but smile at his joke. I curl up under his arm on the sofa and close my eyes, just listening to him and Cullen drone on about Quidditch. Oliver's hands continually draw small circles onto my back and it almost makes me want to go back to sleep.

"Okay," Cullen suddenly says, loud enough to rouse me. "I wasn't going to say anything, but are you two…"

Oliver looks down at me slowly and I just shut my eyes tiredly once more. "Yeah, we're back together," he admits. I assume the look on Cullen's face would have been priceless, but a knock on the door interrupts his reaction.

Oliver's the first to get there and he opens it without even looking out the window first. My world starts to piece itself back together slightly as I notice Fred standing there. Although I want so badly to just run to him, I can't figure out how to move.

"Where's Katie and Angelina?" Fred demands and that's all he needs to say to prove his identity. I rush towards him as Oliver shuts the door and he wraps me in a bone-jarring hug.

"Oh my God, Fred, you scared me to death! Where is everyone else? Are they alright?" I ask, tears of relief stinging my eyes.

"Where's Ange?" he retorts, pulling back. My reply is unnecessary as Angelina enters the room. She gasps in surprise and, rushing forward, kisses him passionately.

"Where is everyone else?" she repeats my question as they break apart. All five of us wait anxiously as his eyes lock on each of ours in turn.

"George is fine, but Alicia's at St. Mungo's. They don't know if she's going to make it."

And slowly, my world breaks apart once again.

--

**Cliffhanger, sorry.**

_Next time on _Love and War_: St. Mungo's._


	20. St Mungo's

**Disclaimer (because I'm pretty sure it's been a while): No matter how many times I type it, I can never get the name of Fred and George's shop right. I always have to look it up. I'm pretty sure JKRowling wouldn't forget something like that.**

_--_

_St. Mungo's:_

I've never understood why St. Mungo's is so loud. When I was practically living here during my seventh year, they had to put a silencing charm on the hallway outside of my room because the noise gave me a constant headache.

One of the Healers that was working with me back then explained it to me. She said that the noise gave people more of a reason to live. It showed them what they could do once they got better. Apparently, that's one of the flaws in muggle hospitals. The absence of life convinces people that there's nothing to live for.

So, St. Mungo's gives their patients no noise restrictions which is how I find myself sitting in the waiting room, listening to some old man singing "Odo the Hero" at the top of his voice.

I really hate that song.

And it's all made worse by the fact that Oliver isn't here. He's way too selfless—didn't want to come and upset Fred anymore than necessary. Well, Fred's pretty upset without his help…

Angelina's sitting in the corner explaining the whole ordeal to Alicia's family, although I'm not so sure she's going to be very convincing considering the fact that we weren't given much information on what happened.

We haven't even seen George yet and Fred's not talking. All he told us on the way over here was that Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was attacked and that Alicia got hit with one too many Cruciatus Curses.

Deciding to try my powers of persuasion on Fred, I slowly walk over and sit down next to him. "Fred?" He doesn't respond. Tears of fear and frustration are already welling in my eyes. "Are you going to tell me what happened?" I beg.

"No," he responds harshly. I roll my eyes as the tears start to fall. I brush them roughly off of my face, angry at myself for being unable to control them. Without thinking much about it, I stand up and begin climbing the stairs. I'm pretty sure that there's a lounge here somewhere.

Several wayward Healers offer me condoling glances as I climb the stairs, but none stop me. When I finally get to the lounge, I'm thankful to find it empty. I collapse onto a couch in the corner and bury my head in my hands. I take deep breaths to try to calm myself down, but I end up sounding like I'm hyperventilating.

"Excuse me, Miss?" I hear a kind voice say. I lift my head up and find myself looking into the face of the woman who saved my life last year.

"Healer Meadows?" I cry.

"Katie Bell," she muses. "I thought that that was you. What are you doing here, honey?"

Healer Meadows is a relatively young woman and I really admired her when I was here, but I haven't actually seen her since. She comes over and takes a seat next to me.

"A friend of mine's here," I admit, rubbing my face self-consciously, making sure I've gotten all traces of tears off. "Actually, you might know her; she works here. Her name's Alicia—Alicia Spinnet."

"Ah, yes, I know Alicia. We're giving her top priority and I promise that we have all of our best healers working on her."

"You were in there?" I ask, shocked. "Oh my God, please tell me what's going on. I know that you're not really supposed to, but I can't find her boyfriend and Fred's being an ass—"

"Katie, I'm sorry, but I can't tell you much. She _is_ stable, though."

"She is?" a relieved voice asks from the doorway. I turn to find George standing there, his face abnormally red and blotchy.

"She is," Meadows assures him.

"So," George continues, trying to sort out facts," she's going to be okay?"

"She's going to live," she corrects him. A relieved smile comes over George's face, but I can't be completely happy about the tone of her voice. The Cruciatus Curse is known to cause brain damage; sometimes it's just better to die.

"Well, I need to get back to work. The best to both of you." Healer Meadows leaves the room and George steps forward to take her seat next to me.

"You don't looks so good," he notes.

"Yeah, well, you're not looking so hot either." He actually laughs at that and it lifts my spirits quite a bit. There's just something about George that always convinces me that everything's going to be okay. The hole in his head where his ear used to be serves as a constant reminder of what we can fight through. If he can get through that, then we can get through anything.

"Are you okay?" I ask. He just nods.

"As good as I can be. What are you doing up here, anyway? I didn't think Fred would let you out of his sight after what happened."

"Let me out of his sight?" I scoff. "He wouldn't even talk to me. I can't get him to tell me what happened."

"You couldn't?" George asks. "Is he okay? I haven't even talked to him since we got here."

"I have no clue. I think he's just scared…or something. George, can you please tell me what happened?" He looks at me somberly, but I can tell that he doesn't mind talking about it. Maybe him and Fred just deal with their pain in very different ways.

"Are you sure you want to know?" he asks.

"Yes!"

"Okay… Fred's probably going to kill me for this." He sighs deeply and then begins the story. "We'd just opened the shop, so there thankfully weren't that many customers there when the men walked in. I honestly don't know if they were Death Eaters or not, but they weren't wearing masks and I didn't recognize any of them."

"The Death Eaters have subordinates doing their dirty work now?" I question.

"It looks like it. There were about five of them. One of 'em came up to the desk and told Fred and I to kick everyone out. Fred calmly told everyone that we were closing and they left, no problem. The thing was that Alicia was asleep upstairs. I knew it was too risky to go get her to tell her to leave, so I just prayed she'd stay asleep until they left."

"She didn't?" I ask, already knowing the answer. He shakes his head.

"They took our wands and asked us about pretty much every resistance movement going on in our world right now. Stuff I haven't even heard about. They asked about Lee and Potterwatch, but I honestly don't know where he's been. They asked about Harry, but I don't know anything there either. I mean, I know the rumors, but everyone knows those. It was ridiculous and they kept getting madder with every answer we didn't know.

"Then, they force fed us Veritaserum and started the whole process over again. That's about the time that Alicia woke up. They heard her moving around up there and two of the guys went up to check it out.

"It's kind of a blur after that, but they tortured her, trying to get information out of us that they may have missed. It was horrible, Katie," he says, misery evident in every timbre of his voice.

"It's going to be okay…"

"It's just sickening. There was no reason for them to do that. And the one thing that we actually knew something about, they didn't even ask us. They were amateurs. Their idiot ring leader said that they were sent by Yaxley—that man really hates Fred. I think we were just practice for them because they pretty much fled when they thought that they had killed her."

"Oh my God." I hadn't realized that it was that bad.

"I just had to sit there and watch her dying. I couldn't do anything! And they were laughing, Katie. They were holding me and Fred back and laughing. I just…I can't even comprehend that."

We sit in silence for a few seconds as I reflect on what George had said.

"Ron's with him, isn't he?" I ask, warily. "Harry? He's with Harry?" George nods.

"I'm so scared," George continues. "Every day. He's my kid brother and he's out there doing Merlin knows what. It's bad enough that I have to worry about Ginny at that school."

"I'm so sorry, George." We sit in silence for a few minutes. "So, how are you holding up?" I finally ask.

"I don't really know—I'm doing okay. Just worried. I don't want anything like that to _ever_ happen again. I just don't know how I can stop it."

"Alicia's a strong girl…"

"That's just the thing! She's not and you know it. She's been off for months. It's just...this isn't what's best for her—I'm not what's best for her."

"George…"

"Don't argue, Katie, you know it's true. I'm doing Order crap every other week and I can't even tell her about it because it throws her into a panic. One of these days I'm not going to come back and then what's going to happen?"

"Don't say that," I beg. "You love her, right?"

"Of course I do," he answers and my heart breaks as I see tears welling in his eyes. "But sometimes loving someone means letting them go in order to protect them."

"I don't think that you believe that."

"No, but I'm going to pretend like I do."

--

George and I sit in the lounge for about an hour talking about anything and everything that comes to our minds. I told him about me and Oliver and he laughed for about three minutes straight. I just rolled my eyes and he warned me that I may want to wait a few days before breaking that news to Fred.

We build off of each other's strengths and make our way back down to the lobby together.

When we get there, I spot Angelina chatting with Alicia's brother while Fred sits across the room talking to some scrawny teenager that I don't recognize.

"Who's—?" I start, but George interrupts me.

"It's Lee—Polyjuice."

"Katie!" Lee greets, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. Even though I'm just as excited as he is, I keep it masked for Alicia's family's sake. I hug him gently as I take a seat.

Thankfully, it's only a few minutes later when Healer Meadows walks into the room. Upon seeing her, George and I both rise to our feet. Everyone else does likewise.

"Mr. and Mrs. Spinnet?" Meadows asks. Alicia's parents worriedly step forward and we all follow them until we've formed a giant semi-circle around the Healer. Her parents don't ask us to leave.

"We've run test after test," Healer Meadows begins, "but we can't find anything wrong with your daughter. The extended use of the Cruciatus Curse causes the brain to try to protect itself by shutting down, but we were able to catch it in time. Your daughter's mental well-being is fine. Emotionally, I'm not sure, but—"

"Thank you very much, Healer," Mrs. Spinnet interrupts. "Now can I please see my daughter?"

"The immediate family can. Everyone else will be allowed in tomorrow." The Spinnets turn to follow Meadows, but Alicia's mom stops before they reach the door.

"Come on, George," she says calmly and, although stunned, George rushes after them.

"I guess we should probably leave, then," Angelina says after we all stand there in silence for a few seconds. "I want to get some sleep so I can be over here early tomorrow."

"You're not going anywhere alone," Fred mutters. "I'll go with you. Lee can stay with George." Angelina nods gratefully and then both leave without a word to me.

"So," Lee says as we exit the hospital, "are you still living with Oliver or do you need someone to stay with?"

"No, I'm still with Oliver. My trial's at the end of January so we'll see what happens after that."

"Is living with him working out okay?" Lee questions. I turn to face him, but have to turn away because I'm not used to seeing some skinny white kid where Lee's supposed to be.

"Yeah, it is. We're, um, actually kind of dating again."

"Oh!" Lee says after taking it in for a few seconds. "Does Fred know? Because that would explain why he's being so rude to you."

"No he doesn't—not yet. I don't know what he's so peeved about."

"He's probably just stressed…but you do know that Fred doesn't _really_ hate Oliver, right? He just doesn't like him liking you."

"Then why was he fine with _you_ liking me?" I counter.

"Well…um…I guess that's just Fred for you."

--

"Oliver?" I call tentatively as I step into the flat. "Ben?"

"Ben's not here," Oliver says coming in from the kitchen. "How's Alicia?"

"She's going to be fine," I say, sitting down on my unmade bed. "You should come with me tomorrow—to visit. Screw what Fred thinks; I can't go back there alone."

"If you want me to come, I'll be there."

"I want you to come."

"Then I'll be there," Oliver says with a laugh. "Did you tell _him_ about us yet?"

"No, he was being an arse, but I did tell Angelina, Lee, and George. They don't seem to have a problem with it."

"Yeah, well, Fred's going to," he says and falls down onto my bed next to me. He pulls me close to him so that my head rests on his shoulder and we just sit there for a while, staring at the ceiling.

"Where's Ben?" I ask.

"Embracing his freedom. I think he's at Mallory's."

"Lucky us," I whisper.

The next thing I know, Oliver leans over me and he kisses me gently. There are very few things in this world that are more enjoyable than snogging Oliver Wood. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but by the time we broke apart my head was spinning.

"I love you, Katie Bell," he whispers into my neck.

"I love you, too," I reply.

"It's almost midnight," he says, pulling back. I sit up. "You've had a long day—why don't you try to go to bed?"

"I won't be able to sleep." He kisses that top of my head and hops up.

"Please try, Katie. We'll go see Alicia tomorrow. Do you want me to stay with you until you fall asleep? Because I will."

"No, Oliver, I'm fine," I assure him. "Goodnight." I lean up and give him a quick kiss before lying back down on my bed.

"Night," he agrees. "I'll see you in the morning."

--

Several hours later, I lie awake in bed, unable to calm myself down enough to sleep. Thoughts of Alicia being tortured flood my mind full force and I can't stop them from coming. Every sound makes me jump and every movement convinces me that the Death Eaters are coming for me next.

To make matters worse, the world decides to insult me. One word: thunderstorm. As paranoia reaches an all time high and a loud crack of thunder sounds through the flat, I hop up from my bed and run to Oliver's room. I'm all the way to the door before common sense stops me.

I can't go in there! It's Oliver's bedroom. We only just started dating—I can't rush to him every time a bump in the night frightens me.

I don't know the damn protocol for this stuff. I mean, I know that he would gladly let me sleep in his bed just to make me feel better, but is it to early in the relationship to be doing stuff like that?

Another thunder clap sounds and I barge into the room out of sheer terror.

His room's pitch black and I can't even see two feet in front of my own face. Like a little kid, I just stand there at the edge of his bed, scared of saying anything in case it wakes him up and I get scolded. My fear of the dark, however, overwhelms me.

"Oliver?" I whisper. "Are you awake?" He doesn't answer, so I step closer in the general direction of the bed. I stub my toe on something on the way over, but stop myself from falling and even manage to not make a sound. I stand still for a few seconds, trying to gauge whether the noise had woken him.

I walk forward until I feel his bed under my hands.

"Oliver?" I ask again when I get near enough. Thunder rocks the night and I whimper to myself. "Oliver?" I ask, reaching out to shake him gently awake. "Oliver?"

"Katie?" he finally asks groggily, moving slightly under my hand.

"I'm scared," I say simply. I hear him scoot over a little bit.

"Get in," he says gently and I get into bed next to him. He lowers the covers over me and pulls me closer so that my back is against his chest.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"You don't have to thank me, Katie. Just try to sleep. Everything's going to be all right." I nod against him and close my eyes.

I try to keep my mind off of the events of the day and instead focus on how great Oliver's being to me, but I can't. Thunder sounds again and I nearly jump out of my skin.

"Sorry," I apologize quickly, immediately regretting coming in here.

"It's fine," he says with a gentle laugh. "Just calm down." We lay there for several minutes and I do feel my nerves leaving, but only slightly. "Katie, are you okay?" he asks, kissing the top of my head.

"I've just freaked myself out. I'll be fine," I assure him.

"You're shaking," he says, pulling me to him tighter.

The next time it thunders, I turn so that I can bury my head in his chest, trying to drown out the sound. He lets me.

The next time it thunders, I don't jump at all, knowing that Oliver's there to protect me.

And the next time it thunders, I'm fast asleep.

--

**A/N: I love hurricanes. That may sound horrible, but it's true. I don't like the damage, of course, but they're so beautiful. I like listening to the rain. Anyway, review please!**

_Next time on _Love and War:_ Visiting Alicia and a marriage proposal._


	21. France

**Sorry this is a bit short; I'll try to make the next chapter longer...if you review ;)**

**Disclaimer: Gustav was no fun at all—it barely even rained. But now I have Ike to look forward to. Lovely. Yeah, I'm obviously not JKRowling.**

_--_

_France:_

"Katie, honey, wake up. It's almost ten o'clock."

I slowly open my eyes, blinking several times as the sunlight blinds me. I roll over to face the voice and notice Oliver laying on his side right next to me, smirking jovially. I groan and close my eyes once more.

"I don't want to wake up," I argue. "I want to go back to bed."

"Oh, no you don't," he says, shaking me gently. "I've already let you sleep way longer than I should have. Every one else is probably at St. Mungo's by now." I sit straight up in bed as the events of the previous day come rushing back to me.

"Alicia!" I cry, hopping out of bed.

"Well, good morning to you, too," Oliver says with a laugh.

"Oh, sorry," I say sheepishly, sitting down on Oliver's bed once again. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he replies, pulling me over to lie down next to him.

"Sorry I came in here last night," I mutter. "I don't like thunder."

"It's not a problem at all," he says, kissing the top of my head. "Actually, I'm kind of glad you did."

I can't help but smile to myself and although I want nothing more than to stay in his arms all day, I sit back up. "I probably need to get dressed," I mutter.

"Yeah, okay. Do you want to eat breakfast here or go to St. Mungo's first?"

"St. Mungo's. I really want to see Alicia."

"And you're sure you want me to go?"

"Positive," I say sternly before walking out of the room.

As I pass the kitchen on my way to my self-made dresser/entertainment system, I don't notice Ben sitting there.

"Good morning," he says cheerfully, sneaking up behind me as I try to find my pair of jeans.

"Holy shit, Ben," I say, clutching my heart. "Don't do that!"

"Sorry," he mutters, sitting down on my bed.

"Where were you last night?" I ask absentmindedly, tossing shirt after shirt aside.

"Do you really have to ask that?" he replies.

"Oh," I say after thinking about it for a second. "Nope, nevermind. Is Mallory happy about your newfound freedom?"

"Yes, she is actually. Where were _you_ last night?"

"Do you really have to ask that?" I answer smugly. He just rolls his eyes as I head for the bathroom.

I change quickly and then make my way back to the living room where Oliver's already waiting. We Apparate to St. Mungo's together.

We pass through the crowded lobby, but make our way instead up to the fourth floor waiting room. When we get there, I instantly spot Angelina and Fred waiting in the far corner. Oliver and I make our way over.

"Hey," I say, sitting down on the opposite side of Angelina. "How's Alicia?"

"George says she's doing fine, but I haven't actually seen her yet," Angelina answers. "He's in there right now. They're only letting in two non-relatives at a time, so we're going to have to wait a bit. Hi, Oliver."

"Hey," he says, pulling her into hug and then turning to Fred. "Fred," he acknowledges.

Fred simply nods in his general direction without replying. Slightly taken aback, Oliver sits down next to me.

"Are you sure he doesn't know about us?" he whispers in my ear. I just shrug in response "Well, should we tell him?" I just shrug once more.

"I'm going to go get some tea, Ange," he announces, standing up and leaving the room without saying a word to Oliver or me.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" I ask as soon as he's out of ear shot.

"What do you mean?" Angelina asks.

"Fred! He hasn't said a word to me since he came and got us from Leanne's yesterday."

"Oh," Angelina says, brushing it off. "I'm sure he's just a little stressed right now."

"You haven't told him about me and Katie, have you?" Oliver asks.

"Hell no," she says, her eyes getting wide at the very idea. "I am not about to tell him that. That's up to you two."

"So, you don't know why he's mad at me?" I ask desperately. This is just not like Fred.

"He hasn't said anything to me."

"I'm going to go talk to him," I decide, picking myself up from my chair. "I'll be back in a minute." Neither of them makes any move to stop me, although I can tell from the look on Oliver's face that he's thinking about it. I ignore that fact and begin making my way to the lounge.

I arrive on the fifth floor and it doesn't take me long to spot Fred sitting by himself, holding a cup of tea. I slowly walk over and take the seat next to him.

We sit there in silence for a few minutes, before he chooses to speak.

"Do you want this?" he asks, offering me his cup. "I'm really not that thirsty."

"Thanks," I say taking it from him. "Fred, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he says, harsher than was necessary.

"Fred, seriously! What the hell is wrong with you?" I ask, my anger raging inside of me. "You're treating me like shit and I know that you wouldn't do that unless you have a reason."

"You know, my whole life doesn't revolve around you. Maybe I just got sick of your perky voice and cheerful demeanor," he says, never meeting my gaze.

"My perky voice and cheerful demeanor? I've never been perky in my entire life! You're making crap up now. What is wrong? Did you find out about me and Oliver? Because this is a ridiculous reaction to that!"

"Katie, can you please just…you and Oliver? What about you and Oliver?" he yells, leaving his I-don't-give-a-shit attitude behind, and turning to me with his eyes blazing.

"George didn't tell you?" I ask, sheepishly.

"No," he retorts.

"Oh, well…nevermind, then."

"Katie!"

"Okay," I give in, just happy that he's actually talking to me. "We're kind of dating again. But it's nothing for you to freak out about! I mean, you know I've liked him for a long time and—"

"Katie?" he asks, his face relaxing into a smile. "Don't scare me like that again! Of course you're dating—I'm not bloody oblivious. I realized you were going out when I picked you up from Leanne's."

"Then why did you just get so mad?" I ask, a bit shell-shocked.

"Oh, nothing, really. I just have this irrational fear that he's going to take you away from me," Fred says, shrugging as if that doesn't mean a thing.

"What?"

"I just don't want him to think that he has sole control over your life. A lot of people are leaving the country now that You-Know-Who's really back. I just don't want you to go."

"Fred, I would never do that!" I argue. "And neither would Oliver, for that matter! You know I'm not going to leave—especially now."

"I know. That's not the only thing that's scaring me about this relationship, though. Just promise me you won't have sex with him until you're ready. Please?"

"That's a bit random," I say with a laugh.

"Not really," he counters. "You don't have a parent around to tell you this sort of stuff. I just…don't want you to rush things. You may not believe me when I say this, but I honestly never expected you to end up with anyone besides Oliver. Just take your time, please."

"I will," I promise. Unable to stop myself, I lean forward and wrap my arms around Fred's neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too, Katie," he whispers back.

"But you never did answer my question," I say, pulling away from him slightly.

"And what question would that be?"

"Why have you been so mad at me? We've barely spoken since this fiasco started." I ask warily, hoping that he doesn't suddenly remember his anger.

"I wasn't mad at _you_," he says with a laugh. "I could never be mad at you. And even if I was, it wouldn't stop me from talking to you. I was made at me."

"Well then, why were you mad at yourself?"

"Because…because I'm a horrible boyfriend."

"No, you're not. But what does that have to do with—"

"You? Everything. When Alicia was being attacked, do you know what I was thinking about? The only thing that came to my mind was you. I was worried about _you_ and whether or not _you_ were at home safe. Not Angelina. And that kills me."

"Fred, there's nothing you can do about things like that. You love Ange. You were probably only thinking about me because I'm more likely to be a target than Angelina is."

"No," he argues, more with himself than with me, "That's not it. I compartmentalize people. You came straight to my mind because I know what my future is with you. You're always going to be my best friend and that's never going to change. Angelina, on the other hand…I mean, if we ever broke up, there's no telling what would happen between us."

"I don't really understand…" I mutter.

"Katie, Angelina and I have been going out for almost three years. Don't you think that it's time that we took that next step?"

"Um…"

"I've been thinking about it all day. And I love her—I'm never going to feel this way about anyone else—and I have the money. I think I'm ready for this. I need to know that everyday she's going to be there. I want her to be a constant in my life, like you are."

"Oh my God," I mutter when I am finally capable of stringing words together. "You're going to ask her to marry you!"

"Yeah," he says, a smile appearing on his face at the sound of the words. "Yeah, I think I am."

"Oh my God!" I cry again, more ecstatic this time. "Fred Weasley—married. Why do I find that so hard to comprehend?"

"Shut up," he mutters.

"But seriously! Did you ever think that this would happen?"

"No, seriously, shut up," he urges, tilting his head to the side sharply. I turn to see Angelina making her way over to us.

"Hey," I say when she gets near enough. The grin on my face is probably a little too big to pass off as a greeting.

"Hi," she says back, as if doubting my sanity. "George is out of Alicia's room and Oliver's in there now. He told me to tell you to meet him there."

"Okay," I say, getting up from the couch. "I'll talk to you two later." Throwing Fred one last knowing glance, I exit the room.

Making my way back down to the fourth floor, I can feel that some of my worries have been lifted. I knock on Alicia's door gently and I hear her voice telling me to come in. I open the door warily, scared of the state Alicia might be in.

She is sitting up in bed as I enter, looking happier than I've seen her in a while. "Hey, honey, how are you?" I ask, pushing past Oliver to hug her tightly.

"I'm good," she says. "Still a little weak, and I don't even remember much of what happened. But George said that that's probably for the best."

"Yeah, it is," I agree.

"So," she says as I sit down in the chair next to my boyfriend, "Oliver was telling me that you two are going out again."

"Yeah, we are," I say, looking over at him. "Is that the only thing that you could think to talk about?" I ask him.

"No," Alicia says from the bed, "he was also telling me about Puddlemere's chances at the World Cup."

"You didn't have to tell her about that," he groans and I can't help but laugh along with Alicia. It's actually amazing how normal she seems.

All three of us stay in there talking for about half an hour before Alicia asks to speak with me alone. Oliver excuses himself, saying he'll meet me in the waiting room.

I get up from my seat and join Alicia in her bed. "What's going on?" I ask and although her face doesn't show it, I can tell that what she's about to say is causing her a great deal of pain.

"I just…I need to tell someone and you're the only person I feel like I can talk to right now," she says, her voice becoming more and more strained.

"What's wrong?"

"I—I talked to my parents last night and they don't want me to stay here."

"What do you mean?" I ask, wrapping my arms around her.

"You know my brother, Liam, right? Well, he's gotten a job in France and he offered for me to go live with him there."

I'm shocked into silence as that information slowly makes its way into my head. France?

"Do you want to go?" I ask, slowly.

"I don't know," she answers as tears begin to well up in her eyes. Although crying hasn't been a rare thing for Alicia in the past, I can tell that this time is different. "I kind of think that I do...and that kills me. But I'm so scared, Katie. I'm not strong like you and Angelina. I'm just not."

"Shh, honey," I whisper as her tears begin to fall.

"I think I'm going to go," she says. "I think it'll be good for me—at least for a little while, until things cool back down over here. I just can't imagine going back to my normal life right now, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," I say, feeling tears stain my own cheeks. "But what about George?"

The intensity of her tears increases and without words, I have my answer.

--

After leaving Alicia's room and stopping by a bathroom to make sure my face doesn't betray her future plans, I head back towards the waiting room.

"Katie!" Angelina cries as soon as I get through the door. Her voice is so loud and shrill that several people in the room jump. "Guess what?"

I look at Fred in shock and he just smirks. "You asked her here?" I accuse. He just shrugs as the smile on Angelina's face disappears.

"He told you? You told her?! That's supposed to be my job!"

"I'm guessing you said yes?" I laugh.

"Of course I said yes—I thought he was never going to ask me. You've got to be a bridesmaid, okay? And don't even complain about the dress because it's going to be gorgeous."

"I'll keep that in mind," I say.

"Oh my God!" she shrills, running over and hugging Fred. He laughs at her, but gladly hugs her back. "I've got to go tell Alicia!" Without another word, she takes off towards Alicia's room, Fred following close behind.

"So," Oliver says as I take the seat next to him. "Is Alicia okay?"

"Yeah, I think she's going to be fine," I answer and I honestly believe that it's the truth. France will be good for her.

"Well, Fred invited us to the Burrow for Christmas. I told him we'd be there."

"Christmas with the Weasley's? That's bound to be entertaining."

"Yeah, it is," he says, throwing his arm over my shoulder. "And I was kind of thinking that we could stop by my parent's house afterwards…if you don't mind."

"Of course I don't mind," I laugh. Truth be told, Oliver could have said that we were going to go to Hogwarts to spend Christmas with Snape and I would have followed him there.

"Good, because there's someone coming to see you."

"Who?" I ask.

"My grandmother."

Oh bloody hell.

--

_Next time on _Love and War_: Christmas._

**Review, please. And I've kind of been wanting to write something in Oliver's POV. Not in this story, obviously, because I don't like changing POVs, but in like a oneshot or something. Let me know what you think :D**


	22. Happy Christmas

**Sorry it's late, but it **_**is**_** long. No, seriously. It's probably the longest chapter I've ever written. Be happy :)**

--

_Happy Christmas:_

I woke up early on Christmas morning. In fact, I was up before Oliver was. The prospect of presents never fails to excite me.

I leap up and am pleased to find a reasonable sized stack of gifts at the foot of my bed. Unwilling to wait for anyone to wake up, I begin tearing the elaborate wrapping off of the gift closest to me.

I'm already half way through my stack before I notice that both Ben and Oliver are smirking at me from the doorway.

"What?" I ask sheepishly.

"You just look so excited," Oliver laughs. Ben joins in and comes over to sit down on my bed.

"Have you opened mine yet?" he asks.

"I don't know," I respond stupidly. I haven't been paying much attention to who they're from. Oliver lets out another resounding laugh, but then disappears into his room. To open his own presents, I imagine.

Ben looks through my pile of unopened gifts and points his out. "Right there," he says. "It's from me and Mallory."

I grab the present and unwrap it as calmly as possible, not wanting to make a fool out of myself by ripping the paper manically. Out of the box, I pull an assortment of things: several Holyhead Harpies souvenirs (those must be from Mallory), some Honeyduke's chocolate, and a mobile phone.

"You got me a mobile phone?" I cry, shocked. Laughing at the expression on my face, Ben just nods. "But why?"

"Because you're always asking to borrow mine," Ben answers. "Now you can call your Dad whenever you want. I just bought the plan it came with, though. I know the guy at the store and he gave me a good deal but after six months you're going to have to start paying for it yourself."

"Aw, you got me six months free," I coo.

"Like I said, I know the guy at the shop," Ben says as if it's no big deal.

"Thank you," I say, reaching up to hug him.

"You're welcome," he answers. "But now I've got to go over to Mallory's. She wants me to spend Christmas with her family." The look on his face plainly says he's not looking forward to that.

"It'll be fine," I laugh.

"If you say so. Happy Christmas, Katie."

"Happy Christmas, Ben." He Disapparates and I turn back to my presents. Bludger walks up next to me and I can't resist the temptation to stick one of my bows around his head. He leaps away from me and walks around trying to dislodge the offending object. I'm still laughing at him when Oliver walks into the room, clutching the broom speeder-upper thing that I had given him.

"How did you know I wanted this?" he exclaims excitedly as I try to calm myself down.

"Magic," I laugh.

"Thank you so much," he says cries and I find it funny that he's being serious. He looks just like a two year old unwrapping a new toy.

"No problem," I reply.

"And I see that you're wearing the necklace I got you," he says, taking a seat on my bed. I join him there.

"Yes, I love it," I admit, cuddling under his arms and rubbing the heart shaped pendant that he had given me.

"Good." Bludger lets out a wail from across the room and Oliver turns to look at his poor decorated dog for the first time. "What did you do to him?" Oliver laughs, calling the dog over and removing the ribbon.

"I just thought that he needed a little Christmas spirit," I say with a laugh. Oliver shakes his head and places the ribbon in my hair instead.

"What time are we supposed to be at the Weasley's?" I ask after a few minutes as Oliver softly strokes my hair.

"Fred's going to come get us around nine. Apparently, it'd be impossible for us to Apparate there. I didn't realize the Weasley's had so much protection on their house."

"Yeah, well you weren't at the wedding," I say somberly.

"You have no idea how scared I was that day," Oliver admits after a few seconds. "Knowing you were there. And then when I called Angelina and she said that you'd stayed—what were you thinking by the way?"

"Oh, can we please not get into this right now?" I cry. Oliver just rolls his eyes at my lack of self-preservation. "So, who's going to be there?" I ask, trying to change the subject.

"Fred wasn't very specific, but he did say that it was just a small group of family. So I guess it's just the Weasley's, us, and Angelina, unless…Alicia?"

I shake my head. "She's gone," I say and leave it at that. I haven't exactly been up to talking about her departure lately and Oliver hasn't pressed it. He rubs my back gently and I can't help but feel like this Christmas is going to be a bit difficult to get through.

"And what about _your_ parents?" I ask. "When are we supposed to be over there?"

"Around four. We'll have lunch at the Weasley's, and then dinner at my parent's."

"Busy day," I muse. Oliver just nods.

We get up a few minutes later to make ourselves presentable and I'd just gotten done putting on my mascara when Fred Apparates straight into our living room. Both he and Oliver are waiting for me when I walk into the room.

"Happy Christmas," Fred greets, his smile spread wide across his face.

I don't think I've seen him in a bad mood since he proposed to Angelina. Even when Alicia left, he seemed unfazed, although I know that he didn't want her to go. I find it kind of humorous just how much he's grown to like the idea of marriage. Even Angelina isn't as excited as him! She's been expecting him to propose; it seems to have come as a surprise to Fred.

"Happy Christmas," I reply.

"Okay, just a few ground rules," Fred starts. "Don't say anything about Harry, Ron, or Percy. All three are guaranteed to have mum break down in tears and I know Ginny doesn't want to have to deal with that again. Oh, and Ginny's pretty much a wreck right now, so don't mind her."

"Don't mind her?" I ask, shocked. "What's wrong?"

"She's just a little overwhelmed, is all," Fred brushes it off with a wave of his hand.

"Men," I mutter. "Can you please just Apparate us over there?"

"Whatever you say, Your Highness," Fred says, grabbing me by the wrist. "I'll come back for you, Ollie."

"Why do I doubt that?" Oliver jokes.

"Because you know me too well," Fred replies with a smirk. Before Oliver can reply, we've Apparated right into the Weasley's garden.

"So, is this still Order headquarters?" I ask, looking around.

"Pretty much," Fred replies, his smile slipping for the first time in days. "But I wouldn't mention that, either. The Order's practically disbanded—it's chaos. Anyway, just go in the backdoor. Knock; the password's 'Dumbledore shall reign from the grave'."

"That's rather morbid," I comment.

"Yeah well, George picked it and, needless to say, he's not in the best mood at the moment. Last I checked, him and Angelina were brooding together in the living room. I'll be back in a minute with your boyfriend."

I just nod and head towards the back door. Fred watches me until I reach it and then Disapparates.

I hear people bustling around in the kitchen as soon as I knock.

"Can someone get the door, please?" I hear Mrs. Weasley scream through the Burrow. "I'm trying to skin these potatoes! If you want potatoes for dinner, then someone's going to have to help me a little bit!"

"It's okay, Mum, I got it," I hear a familiar voice say from the other side of the door. My stomach does a painful flip and that involuntary reaction has me wishing that we hadn't come here today. Charlie.

"Who is it?" he asks.

"You're not supposed to ask who it is!" Mrs. Weasley shrills. "Ask the password. That way you don't stand in my kitchen wasting time!"

"Dear God, mum. Fine! Password?!"

"Uh…" I say, temporarily forgetting what Fred had told me only seconds before. "It's something about Dumbledore and a grave…give me a second…"

"Katie?"

"Yeah, it's me. Sorry. Fred kind of left me out here. He'll be back in a minute with Oliver, though."

"Hey, mum, it's Katie. Can I let her in?"

"Did she give you the password?"

"I don't know. What's the password?"

"Like I'm supposed to know? I've been cooking all morning so that you'll have Christmas lunch. Ask your brother!"

"Mum, I'm letting her in."

"Do what ever you want, Charlie! But if we all end up murdered, I want that Death Eater that's standing out there to let everyone know that you're the reason we're dead."

"Will do. Katie, you got all of that?"

"Yeah, I think so." The door is slowly pulled open and Charlie and I just stand there staring at each other for several seconds.

"See, Mum," Charlie calls over his shoulder. "It _is_ just Katie."

"Oh, well it's nice to see you again, dear," Mrs. Weasley says, looking up from the potatoes floating in the air around her to give me a smile.

"Nice to see you, too," I say, stepping into the room to allow Charlie to shut the door behind me.

"I, uh, didn't realize that you were coming," Charlie says, leading me out of the kitchen, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"Must have slipped Fred's mind," I mutter. I'm not surprised. It's a miracle that Mrs. Weasley was actually expecting me.

"He has seemed kind of distracted lately. What's going on with him?"

"I'm sure he'll tell you later. Where is everyone?" I ask, looking around at the nearly empty house. I don't think that I've ever heard the Burrow this quiet.

"Uh, George and Angelina are in the living room moping about Alicia, and Ginny's upstairs."

"There's no one else here?" I ask shocked.

Charlie looks over his shoulder and answers quietly. "Bill's spending his first Christmas alone with Fleur, Percy's still being an arse, and Ron's…not here…"

"With Harry, I know. Continue, please."

"Most of the Order just couldn't make it. Dad's coming, but he's going to be a little late. And Mum's…not too happy about the whole ordeal. I'm surprised she hasn't had a heart attack worrying about us all like she does."

"Well, you can't blame her," I say, looking into the kitchen at an apprehensive Molly Weasley. "Now, where'd you say Ginny was?"

"In her room, I think, but she hasn't really said much since she got back from Hogwarts. She's been snapping on anyone who goes in there," he answers warily.

"I'm sure I'll be fine," I say, walking up the stairs. "I'll bring her down here for lunch."

"Katie, she's not going to come."

"Trust me," I say and disappear around the corner. I continue climbing stairs until I reach what I think is Ginny's room. I knock tentatively on the door.

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm not coming downstairs?" she cries angrily.

"Ginny?" I ask, hoping that she recognizes my voice.

"Katie?" she cries and I hear her rushing towards the door. It opens almost immediately and she envelopes me in a hug. Although she's two years younger than me, she's nearly a head taller. "I hate being the only girl in this bloody house!" she cries, loud enough that I'm sure everyone downstairs can hear her perfectly.

"Do you want to go into your room and talk?" I ask, pulling back. She nods eagerly and we head in. "Are you okay?" I ask, as I get situated on her bed.

"I don't know," she answers and I can honestly tell that she isn't sure. "I don't think so, but I'm just so confused."

"Well, what's wrong?"

"Everything! Our whole world's going to hell!" she cries loudly, sitting down roughly on her bed. The force of it nearly dislodges me. It's then that I notice the faint bruises covering her arms and legs.

"Oh my God, Ginny! What happened?" I cry, grabbing her arm gently as evidence.

"Something my mum can _not_ know about," she whispers harshly. As if to prove her point, she makes her way to her still packed Hogwarts trunk and slips on a jumper and a pair of jeans. "Turns out the new management at Hogwarts isn't very tolerant of rule-breaking."

"You've got to tell someone! They can't just beat children up. It's a school."

"A school run by You-Know-Who's right hand man," Ginny corrects. "No one cares. It's not a big deal, really. It's bearable right now." She peeks her head out of her door quickly to make sure no prying ears are listening in.

"Right now?" I question. A sly smile spreads across her face.

"D.A.'s back," she announces happily. "Neville, Luna, and I are pretty much running it…well, _were_ running it. They got Luna on the ride over here—just took her off of the train! Can you believe that?"

"They did _what_?" I ask, having a hard time following Ginny's outrageous story.

"They took her off of the train. Seriously, Katie, where have you been? Living under a rock? I think it must have something to do with _The Quibbler_. Which is just great…Anyway, Neville and I are going to get more serious about our resistance after Christmas. No more messing around—this is serious stuff." Her face is set and it scares me just how staid she is.

"Isn't this just a bit…I don't know, dangerous?"

"I honestly don't know," Ginny answers. "But someone's got to do something."

"Okay…um…your brothers seemed to be under the impression that you were upset about something."

To my surprise, she laughs. "My brothers are idiots. I'm upset about Luna, of course, but I'm more worried about what's going on at Hogwarts without me. I just feel like I need to be back there, you know."

No, I can't say that I understand that.

"So, how have you been doing?" she asks politely. "I'm dying for some gossip…anything!"

"Oh," I say, surprised by the change of subject. "Ok, well, I'm going out with Oliver again." She lets out a high-pitched squeal that sends me reeling.

"I knew that you two would get back together eventually. You were too close not to! Wait, does Charlie know?"

"Well, he thought that we were going out a few weeks ago when we really weren't—long story. Why?"

"Because Mum's convinced that you and Charlie are perfect for each other." Without waiting for my response, she heads for the door. "You coming?" she asks.

I nod my head mutely and follow her out of the room, still trying to figure out what exactly just happened. I guess that's the kind of stress that builds up when you've got six older brothers.

She stops at the foot of the stairs, trying to figure out where everyone is. She notices Angelina, Fred, and George in the living room and takes a step that way, but I quickly grab her elbow to stop her.

"If you're looking for a merry conversation, that's not the place to go," I warn her.

"Why? What's going on?" she asks worriedly.

"Alicia moved to France," I say. She immediately drops the subject with one last look towards George and heads for the kitchen instead.

We walk in and Ginny makes her way towards Mrs. Weasley. "Need any help, Mum?"

Mrs. Weasley turns around, startled by the interruption. Upon seeing her daughter, she does a double take. "Oh, no I'm actually almost done, dear. We're just waiting on your father."

Ginny shrugs nonchalantly and takes a seat at the table where Oliver and Charlie are deep in conversation.

"Where _is_ Dad, Mum? He's never had to work on Christmas Day before," Charlie asks as I take the empty seat next to Oliver. He grabs my hand under the table.

"Oh, there was some sort of disturbance at Bathilda Bagshot's house last night. Kingsley and your father just wanted to go check it out before the evidence is removed. Pointless waste of time if you ask me…"

From the next room, I hear the fireplace roar to life.

"Mum!" I hear George call after several tense seconds of silence. "Bill's in the fire for you!"

"Oh, Bill!" Mrs. Weasley trills, rushing to talk to her eldest son.

"I still don't understand why he couldn't come," Ginny pouts. "It's Fleur, I swear. She's corrupting him!"

"Ginny, she is not corrupting him," Charlie says exasperatedly.

"Just because she's good-looking—"

"Oh, not this again! Merlin's magic, Ginny! She's married to my brother."

"Yeah, well that doesn't stop Ron," she counters.

"Please don't say _his_ name right now," Charlie whispers. "I really can't deal with Mum crying today."

We're interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Damn," Charlie mutters. "Does anyone remember the password?"

Oliver and both shake our heads.

"Who is it?" Charlie asks the door.

"Arthur Weasley. Dumbledore shall reign from the grave."

"What?" Charlie asks incredulously as if he fears for his father's sanity.

"That's the password," Oliver and I inform him together.

"Oh," he says and opens the door, letting Arthur Weasley in.

Ginny and Charlie both hug him before he even notices that we're there. "Oh, hello kids. Happy Christmas!"

"Happy Christmas," we reply.

"Dad, is Bathilda Bagshot okay?" Ginny asks.

He eyes all of us before answering. "Um, not exactly. I think she's actually been dead for a while—possessed by the look of the place." None of us make a sound as the reality of the situation sinks in. "So, where's your mother."

"She's talking to Bill through floo," Charlie says.

"Ah! I'll just go join her, then." He exits the room, all smiles.

"Does he always do that?" Oliver questions once he's gone. "Pretend like everything's okay?"

"Normally," Charlie answers, taking a seat at the table once more. "He tries to balance out Mum's pessimism."

We all sit there talking for a few minutes before Mr. and Mrs. Weasley return, followed by Fred, George, and Angelina. Mrs. Weasley immediately begins barking out instructions for us.

"Fred, George, and Oliver, go get the tables out of the closet and set them up in the den so that we'll have more room. Katie and Charlie, go get the nice silverware out of the pantry and then set the tables. Angelina, Ginny, I need your help in the kitchen." The glint in Mrs. Weasley's eyes when she pairs me and Charlie together doesn't escape my notice. One look at Oliver tells me that it didn't escape his notice either.

"Calm down, Oliver. He knows we're going out; he's not going to try anything." I whisper as we're getting up from the table.

"Katie, do I really need to explain what you do to the people that you make out with. They always end up hopelessly in love with you." Great! He just had to bring up the whole Cullen thing—I thought we were beyond that. I just roll my eyes and head in the opposite direction to retrieve the silverware.

Charlie and I stand there awkwardly, picking up forks and spoons, for several seconds.

"So, how have things been going?" I finally ask.

"About as good as can be expected," he says with a smile. "I mean, in a lot of ways I have it better than you do. There hasn't been much activity from You-Know-Who in Romania."

"Yeah, well I'm starting to suspect that Oliver has been keeping You-Know-Who's dealings to himself lately… Either that or I'm just completely oblivious," I mutter.

"He's probably trying not to scare you. Mum doesn't tell Ginny anything, although it doesn't do much good. I get the feeling that Ginny knows more about what's going on than I do most of the time."

"Well, I do," Ginny says matter-of-factly, walking into the pantry next to us. "Katie, Oliver's shooting death glares this way, just so you know."

I groan audibly and pick up a few more knives before leaving the small room.

"Wait," Charlie says, coming out after me as we make our way towards the tables that the twins are setting up with Oliver. "Listen, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something." I stop dead in my tracks and Oliver looks up worriedly.

"About what?" I ask as calmly as possible, moving towards the boys once more. Please, Charlie! You know I'm going out with Oliver. Why press the matter?

"About us actually," he says as if I should already know that. I stop once more and Oliver, having overheard us, starts to make his way over. I raise my hand gently to stop him.

"Listen, Charlie," I say, turning to the older man, "I thought we both agreed that that thing this summer was just a fling. Oliver and I are together now. I mean, you live in Romania and—"

"That's just the thing!" he says happily. "I'm moving home."

"You're what?!" An excited Mrs. Weasley exclaims, coming in from the kitchen. The platter of boiled potatoes that she had been carrying falls from her hands. They would have hit the floor if Fred wasn't so talented with a wand.

"I meant it to be a surprise," Charlie says, turning away from me to face his mother. "I got a temporary desk job so that I could work in England. I don't like being so far away during this war."

"Oh, Charlie," Mrs. Weasley cries, rushing towards her son and engulfing him in a hug. "That's so wonderful! We'll put you back in your old room and everything!"

"Actually, Mum," George says, plucking the potatoes out of midair and placing them on the table, "Charlie's going to move in with me."

"You knew about this?" Mrs. Weasley asks, surprised. "Arthur! Get in here!" Mr. Weasley rushes into the room. "Did you know about this?"

"Know about what?" Mr. Weasley asks and it's obvious that he's oblivious.

"He didn't know, Mum. Just Fred and George. I'm moving in at the end of the week," Charlie explains.

"Arthur, isn't this wonderful? Charlie's moving home."

"Oh, that's great, son. Where are you staying?"

"At the shop," George answers again as Ginny and Angelina make an appearance in the room, each carrying a plate of food.

"There's not enough room for all three of you at the shop," Mr. Weasley points out logically. Fred and George exchange wary glances.

"Wait, what's going on?" Ginny asks from the doorway. Angelina, seeming to sense the flow of the conversation, begins to turn pink even against her dark skin.

What the hell is going on? I turn to Oliver questioningly, but he just shrugs.

"Um, I'm not living at the shop anymore," Fred finally admits. Every eye in the room turns to stare at him. When did this happen? Angelina continues to get redder and George smirks grandly. "I moved in with Angelina after Alicia left."

Everyone stares at him in silence. I don't know the Weasley parents all that well, but I do know that they probably aren't comfortable with their nineteen year old son living with his girlfriend.

"But it's okay!" he continues quickly. "We're getting married!"

Mrs. Weasley's eyes grow wider and her eyebrows disappear into her forehead. No one makes a move, awaiting her reaction.

"M-Married?" she stutters. Fred nods happily. Tears begin to fall from Mrs. Weasley's cheeks and Fred rushes forward to comfort her.

"Mum, what's wrong? I thought you'd be happy."

"I am happy!" she sobs. "This is the happiest day of my life."

I can't help but laugh at the exchange and I'm not the only one. Looking around the room, I'm surprised to find that tears also gleam from Ginny's eyes. I make my way over to her as Mrs. Weasley pulls Angelina forward for an embrace.

"What's wrong with you?" I ask her jokingly.

She smiles as she wipes the offending tears from her eyes. "I'm just so damn happy," she mutters. "Out of all my brothers, he's the one I had the most doubts about." I hug her tightly as she tries to stop her tears of joy.

After everyone calms down slightly, Mrs. Weasley ushers us all to the table and we sit down to eat our Christmas lunch.

Oliver makes sure that he's on one side of me, but Charlie makes sure he's on the other. Damn.

Oliver and I, feeling like the outsiders in this family affair, stay quiet for much of dinner. Charlie keeps trying to drag me into the conversation, but I don't help him too much.

Even though only four of the Weasley's seven children are present, Mrs. Weasley honestly does seem happier than I've ever seen her. Switching conversations between Charlie's living arrangements and Fred's wedding plans, I feel like my head's about to explode.

"Can we please head over to your parent's place?" I whisper into Oliver's ear.

"Gladly," he answers stiffly.

"Mrs. Weasley, the lunch was lovely," I say, standing up, "but Oliver and I need to be going. Thank you so much, though!"

"Oh, no problem. You're welcome here any time, Katie." Oliver, realizing that the same invitation wasn't extended to him, pulls me to the door without another word.

"Oliver, please, calm down," I say when we are both out of the door, heading to the edge of the garden where we can safely Disapparate.

"I'm going to be having a word with Charlie Weasley," he says through clenched teeth. "How dare he make a move on you while I was standing right there? Does he honestly think that our relationship is that fickle?!"

"Well, to be perfectly honest, the only relationship he ever saw us in was a fake one," I say, having to run to catch up with his massive strides.

"He still had no right—!"

"I'm not saying that he did!" Oliver stops suddenly and I almost run into the back of him. He turns around to face me and I raise my eyebrows expectantly.

"Did you sleep with him?" he demands, flames burning in his eyes. "Tell me the truth, Katie. If you did, just let me know so I can learn to live with that fact."

"I didn't!" I insist, my cheeks burning pink.

"With Lee?"

"No!"

"Then who?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" I ask, now angry.

"I'm not vain enough to think that you haven't had sex."

"I haven't!" I cry.

"What?" Oliver asks, anger rising in his voice. He thinks I'm lying!

"What in the name of Merlin makes you think that I've had sex with someone? I didn't have sex with you!"

"You were fifteen!" he argues.

"Do you honestly think that people aren't having sex at fifteen?"

"Katie, I know you've dated people since me; there's no point in hiding it. I've dated people since you." Oh, thanks. That makes me feel much better.

"I've only dated Lee!" I yell.

"And Charlie!"

"I did not _date_ Charlie! That one just kind of happened. I haven't had sex, Oliver! Why is that so hard for you to believe?"

His face relaxes slightly as he realizes that I'm telling the truth.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed…"

"How many people have _you_ had sex with?" I demand, not easily detered from our argument.

"Katie, I don't think—"

"You tell me how many people you've slept with, Oliver Wood, or you can just let your precious Grandma know that the 'engagement' is off."

He stares at me for a few seconds, and rolls his eyes in frustration before answering.

"Two," he says softly. "But I don't even remember the first one!"

"You what?" I ask, surprised when a burst of jealousy fills me to the brim. Sure, I'd always suspected that him and Jai were sleeping together, but to have it confirmed just hurts.

"I was drunk and at a party with the guys. I just…don't remember my first time," he admits sheepishly. Well, at least Jai wasn't his first. That might have pushed me over the edge.

"I hate Jaiden," I finally say, trying to break the awkward silence that had fallen between us.

"Yeah, well, I hate Jaiden too." That makes me feel slightly better.

"We should probably be going," I say.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Just a few things first. Number one, we've been engaged since my seventh year. All of your holidays have been spent with your own family and over the summers you've been doing exchange programs in Germany. Number two—"

"Wait, what?"

"Well, I had to come up with some lie as to why you couldn't show up to any family functions!"

"Okay, you make your life way too complicated."

"Can we not get off topic right now, please? I'm just glad that I don't have to lie anymore. Me and you really are in a relationship now."

I can't help but laugh at that, and he throws me a glare. "You're kidding, right?" I ask.

"No, Katie, I'm not," he says disdainfully.

"Oliver, honey, you're still lying. We're not really engaged."

"Number two," he continues, ignoring my laughter, "the wedding's set tentatively for next winter now that you're through with school."

"Aw, a winter wedding! That's so romantic. I love the snow!"

"Katie, honey, we're not really engaged," he says sarcastically.

"Shut up! I'm enjoying my fantasy here." He laughs at me quietly before taking my hand in his and leading me across the line until we can Disapparate.

Hand-in hand we arrive in the Woods' front yard.

"So, who all's going to be here?" I ask warily. I'm definitely not in the mood for another large group at the moment.

"Just my parents and my grandparents," Oliver answers. "And I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance. I told my Mum that we were really going out again and she nearly passed out she was so happy. You certainly made an impression on her."

I smile slightly and he gives me a quick peck on the cheek as we head for the door. Although I can tell that it's weird for him to have to do so, Oliver knocks on the door of the house that he grew up in.

Elizabeth Wood's face comes into sight and, upon seeing me, she smiles brightly. The locks are undone from the door and before we can even open our mouths to prove our identities, her arms are wrapped around me. I pat her on the back uneasily.

"Katie! You don't know how _thrilled_ I am that you are back here! I knew Oliver would come to his senses eventually," she says happily. Oliver just throws me apologetic glances over her shoulder.

"Oh…um, thank you," I reply as she lets me go.

"Well, come in, come in," she says, ushering us inside.

"Mum, you really should be more careful about who you let into the house," Oliver says as we head to the living room. "I mean, what if Katie and I were Death Eaters using Polyjuice Potion? You and Dad need to work out a password or something."

"Stop being ridiculous, son," she laughs. "I changed your diapers—I knew it was you."

"Thanks, Mum," he mutters. "Are Grandmother and Grandfather here yet?" Wow, that's impersonal.

"Not yet. I think your father only told them to show up for dinner—we wanted some time alone with Katie!"

"Not me?" Oliver laughs. "Thanks."

"Well, of course we wanted to see you, too. Katie, sit down, sit down. Oliver, can you go find your father, please? I think he's in his study," Elizabeth Wood sits down on their couch and gestures for me to join her there. I look once more at Oliver, but follow her lead. Oliver rolls his eyes at me, before exiting the room to find Will Wood.

She stares at me for a few seconds without saying anything, a bright smile still on her face.

"Um, thank you for speaking at my trial, Mrs. Wood," I say in order to end the awkward silence.

"Did you think that I was just going to let them send you away?" she says vehemently. "Caroline Bell's daughter? Trust me, dear; they know exactly who you are. This is just some sort of conspiracy!"

"Well, thank you nonetheless."

"So, how's your father? I haven't seen him in ages."

A pang of remorse surges through my body. "He's in the United States," I explain. "I figured that it would be safer for him there…"

"And it certainly is," Mrs. Wood agrees whole-heartedly. "You're a smart girl, Katie, just like your mother."

Every time that my mother is mentioned, it continues to come as a shock to me. I'm so used to having no one around to mention her that these visits to see Elizabeth Wood always take a lot out of me. It's not that I don't want to remember my mum—of course I do!—but I'm just not used to her name being associated with happy memories.

Oliver and his father walk into the room and I stand up to greet him. I've only ever met him once and although he's an imposing figure, I know from what Oliver's told me that he's an ole softy.

"Hello, Mr. Wood," I greet.

"Please, Katie, call me Will," he says, smiling down at me. I nod my head and Oliver pulls me over to sit on the couch next to him.

His parents ask him countless questions about Puddlemere and the like, trying to include me as much as possible. I just sit back and enjoy the feel of normal conversation. It's been a while since I've been exposed to a family that's not the Weasley's.

Mrs. Wood was most worried about Oliver's safety—and mine too, for that matter. He assured her that we were fine, but I could still see the doubt lingering in her eyes.

"I don't know, Oliver. With you playing Quidditch professionally, virtually everyone in our world knows where to find you."

"Mum, everyone in our world knows where everyone else lives. It's not like our locations are secret!"

"Well, I know that, but this is different," she argues.

"How is it different, Mum?"

"All of those other people aren't our son," Mr. Wood chimes in and that seems to be the end of the discussion.

A few minutes later, the doorbell rings. My heart immediately begins racing as I try to remember all of the lies that Oliver had told me. Who would have guessed that an eighty year old grandmother would scare me so much?

Mrs. Wood rushes to the kitchen to finish our dinner, while Mr. Wood heads to the door, leaving Oliver and I in the room alone.

"Are you okay?" he asks me, probably noticing how pale I look.

"I don't know if I can do this," I admit. "Your grandmother scares me."

"Well, she scares me too."

"You do realize that this is pathetic, right?" I hiss. "How long do you plan on carrying out this charade? What happens next winter when there isn't a wedding planned?"

"We'll deal with that when it comes."

I roll my eyes at him as the dreaded Grandparents enter the room.

"Oh, well, look at that," Emma Wood says disdainfully, looking over at me. "Miss Bell really is here. Did you decide not to hide her this Christmas, Oliver?"

"Her father's out of town this year, so I invited her."

"Yes, because it makes too much sense to just invite her every year," she replies sarcastically, reaching out to hug her grandson. Oliver returns her embrace and faces his grandfather who, like always, looks as if he's wandered into the room by accident. Oliver sits him down in an empty chair and then comes to join me on the couch once again.

"We're all finally together!" Elizabeth Wood says joyfully. "Oh, I've waited so long for this."

"Katie," Emma Wood says, ignoring Oliver's mum and turning straight to the interrogations. "I feel like I barely know you. Our last meeting was so brief." Yeah, well, I barely know myself when I'm in this house.

"There's really not much to tell," I say nervously. Oliver reaches over and grabs my hand.

"She was on my Quidditch team at Hogwarts," Oliver supplies. Emma's eyes widen and she looks at me as if I've grown three heads.

"You don't play Quidditch for a living, do you?" The tone of her voice makes it obvious that she doesn't approve of that particular career path.

"No, ma'am, I don't," I assure her. "I was a reporter for the _Daily Prophet_ up until a few months ago."

"Oh, of course," Emma says, rolling her eyes. "I still can't believe that the Ministry overlooked your name on our list! If I had been in the country when you'd been named a muggleborn, I would have set it right immediately! I'm sorry you had to go through that, dear—it was so unnecessary."

"It's fine; I'm just thankful that my name was on your list at all."

"Well of course it was on my list! You're practically family. Right, Oliver?"

"Right, Grandmother," he agrees.

"Next December, yes?"

Oliver swallows hard before answering. "Yes."

"Good. Oh, Elizabeth, you will not believe what I heard the other day! You know Patricia Ackerly's daughter, Miranda, right? You'll never guess who she's engaged to…"

And with that, the conversation was turned away from me. Emma and Elizabeth Wood began talking about the latest gossip, while Will Wood tried to get his Dad to tell him about his day.

Left to ourselves, I turn to Oliver with a look of sheer boredom etched across my face.

"This isn't exactly how I pictured our Christmas together," he whispers into my ear.

"No? Then how exactly _did_ you picture it, Mr. Wood?" I ask coyly.

"I'm not about to tell you with my parents in the room," he laughs.

"How long until we can leave?" I question after first making sure that no one was listening to us.

"After dinner, I expect." I roll my eyes in frustration and Oliver laughs at me humorlessly. We both know that that could take hours.

"Happy Christmas, Oliver," I say.

"Happy Christmas."

--

**I told you that was long! I felt weird writing Christmas in September, but that's just how it worked out. I'll try to update soon, but if I can't keep up with weekly updates, sorry. **

**Also, I don't have my outline with me, so I'm not completely sure what's in the next chapter. I could go get it, but I really don't want to. I think it's the trial, though.**

**I will be writing an Oliver POV oneshot because I think people would benefit from seeing how his mind works too. I have no clue when I'll get that out, though, but keep your eyes open.**

**Review, please. Seriously. Please.**

**Love you, guys :D**


	23. Moving Day

**A/N: I know it's been a while. I apologize. A lot of personal stuff happened and I promise you'll never have to wait that long again. On a different note, it has come to my attention that someone has been copying my story Love and Quidditch. They're using the penname Colour Change Inkwell on Harry Potter Fanfiction. Please know that that is not me. And if anyone knows what I can do to stop it, let me know. Some people are just plain rude. And thanks to everyone who tipped me off.**

**Disclaimer: My high school homecoming dance was last night—I'm obviously not JKR.**

**--**

_Moving Day:_

After Christmas the weeks seemed to pass by much too fast for my liking. As the day of my trial drew ever nearer, a web of doubt began to etch its way into my mind.

I know that my mother was a witch, but if Yaxley really wants to find a way to throw me into Azkaban, he will. He's got You-Know-Who on his side and all I have is Elizabeth Wood.

I guess there is a chance that Yaxley will take pity on me considering the fact that I'm not going out with Fred as per his original suspicions.

Why does stuff like this always happen to me? Life is not fair—I know people say that all the time, but it's so true. How is it fair that George lost his ear? Or that Mad-Eye lost his life? And I know it's not fair that Dumbledore died at the hands of Severus Snape! If anyone was going to kill Dumbledore, then it should have been You-Know-Who. Not that he could have, but you get the idea.

So how is it fair that I'm accused of being a muggleborn when I'm not one? I know that that sounds selfish, especially since all muggleborns must think this is unjust, but this is really getting ridiculous!

That's not my only problem, though. I've had months to dwell on that particular predicament and with current events, it's been pushed to the back of my mind.

Fred's moved in with Angelina.

Which is all fine and dandy except for the fact that that's technically my flat too. After my trial, the plan was for me to move back in with Angelina and Alicia. Not Angelina and Fred.

I love them both. But I can't live with them together—not now that they're engaged and acting like lovesick puppies all the time. I would never be able to keep a meal down.

The obvious choice would be for me to continue living with Oliver, but since I'm Katie Bell, I have to overanalyze this. Oliver and I are still newly dating, unless you count the year and a half we were together at Hogwarts. Normally I wouldn't even think twice, but we've only been going out for a month and that's way too soon for us to move in together unnecessarily.

But it's Oliver. And I _am_ already here.

I wish he'd offer to let me stay, but he hasn't. I know he wants to—I can see it in his eyes—but he's being held back by impropriety. I've got to do the asking.

And I was going to about a week ago, except Ben had to ruin that moment by dropping his own big news.

He's moving out. Now that he's a free man, he thinks it's about time he got his own place. And I'm not sure if that makes this whole situation better or worse.

On the one hand, if I do move in with Oliver I won't have to sleep on the couch anymore. Not that Oliver's letting me sleep on it now anyways. He keeps insisting I'm emotionally unstable and he doesn't want me to kill myself in my sleep. The truth is that I do sleep better with him next to me. He still hasn't tried anything "inappropriate", though. In some ways, I wish he would; in others, I'm glad he's kept his hands to himself.

On the other hand, without Ben here there's nothing to buffer all of the stupid stuff that I do on a daily basis. Oliver's going to get the unedited version of me and I'm not sure how well he's going to like it. I know that after Leanne moved in with Cullen, there were several weeks when the two of them were at each other's throats. I didn't think they were even going to make it to the alter. I don't want that to happen to Oliver and me.

So basically, Oliver and I have been running around awkwardly because we both know that I want to ask him if I can stay, but neither of us wants to bring it up. And, as always, Fred complicates matters.

He's convinced that I'm moving in with him and Angelina. In fact, I don't even think he realizes that that would be uncomfortable for me at all. He's even scheduled a "moving day"—the day after my trial. Whenever he brings it up, I don't argue. It's more likely that I'll end up back at my old flat than it is that I'll bring the topic up with Oliver.

Is it bad that I can't talk to my own boyfriend about this?

I have no clue. Alicia would know. But, alas, she's not here. Just when I could really use her advice…

Actually, if she'd never left, Fred wouldn't have moved in with Angelina and we wouldn't have this problem at all.

Damn. Now I don't know who to blame. Fred or Alicia? It's more fun to blame Fred.

The morning before my trial, I wake up to a full night's rest. Surprising, I know. I open my eyes groggily and find the door to Oliver's room open with light streaming through the windows. Picking the mobile phone that Ben gave me for Christmas up off of the bedside table, I find that it's nearly noon. Refreshed by the late hour, I sit up in bed. Listening through the door, I hear a lot of commotion coming from out in the hall. After thinking about it for several seconds, I realize what is going on.

Ben's moving out today.

And of course he can't make things easy on all of us by moving into a normal, wizarding neighborhood (not that Oliver or I live in a normal, wizarding neighborhood either), but he has to move into a muggle suburb. Which means that we have to move him out the old-fashioned way.

I slip some clothes on quickly before leaving the room.

The first thing I notice is Mallory sitting on the sofa in the den, reading a magazine. Making my way over to her, I hear Oliver and Ben arguing in the kitchen.

"What's going on in there?" I ask Mallory as I sit down next to her. She glances towards the voices before answering.

"I think they're still arguing over who originally owned the toaster," she shrugs. "Pointless argument really considering the fact that they're both wizards and can make toast using much more efficient means. They're acting like they're getting a divorce."

"How long have they lived together?" I laugh.

"Too long, obviously. Oh, and Oliver was waiting on you to wake up so that you can tell him what you need packed. I think he wants to get your stuff ready to leave today too," she says. My heart drops into my stomach.

Does he really expect me to leave? I don't want to go! I feel homeless…

"What's wrong?" she asks when I don't answer.

"Nothing," I sigh, still listening to Ben and Oliver in the next room.

"It's not nothing," she smirks, setting her magazine down on the table. "You don't want to leave!"

I just shrug.

"Aw, Katie, you're so cute! Just ask Oliver—he'll let you stay."

"I know he will," I reply. "I just don't want to pressure him into anything. He probably wants a little time away from me."

"Yeah right," she snorts. "You're blind if you haven't seen the way he looks at you. Just ask him—it's easy!"

"No it's not," I argue. "I don't see you asking to live with Ben!"

"That's because I have an apartment of my own!"

"Yeah, one that you share with your sister."

"You're getting off of the subject—you actually need a place to stay. I don't."

"Can we just drop this, please?" I cry.

"Fine." Mallory answers, picking up her magazine once more. Even in the silence, her words continue to ring in my ears.

"I'm going to go help the guys," I mutter. Without a word from Mallory, I head for the kitchen.

I push the door open, but Ben and Oliver's ramblings don't stop.

"I swear that toaster's been here since before you moved in," Oliver says.

"Why would it have been? I'm pretty damn sure your parents didn't give you a muggle kitchen appliance as a moving out gift!" Ben argues right back and I have to admit that he makes a good point. I take a seat at the kitchen table, waiting on one of them to notice me.

"Oh…" Oliver muses, calming down slightly. "I think you may be right."

"Thank you!" Ben cries, sweeping the toaster off of the table and jamming it into a large cardboard box. "Oh, good morning, Katie."

"'Morning," I reply. Oliver gives me a small smile before turning back to help Ben pack up some of his silverware.

"You're lucky you don't have as much stuff as me," Ben says, sitting down next to me at the table. "It's a royal pain trying to pack two years worth of stuff into boxes."

"I'll remember that," I laugh. "Is there any coffee?" I can see Oliver roll his eyes all the way across the room. "Shut up!" I cry.

"You're addicted to the stuff, Katie!" he laughs.

"But it's a good addiction."

"There's no such thing as a good addiction," he counters. I give him the finger and he just smiles back.

"So, Katie," Ben says, turning my attention back to him, "are you almost packed? Please tell me you didn't wait until the last minute like I did."

"Well, all I have to do is throw my clothes into a bag," I shrug.

"Lucky you…"

My eyes travel back to Oliver and I just sit there staring at him. It takes me several seconds to realize that he's staring right back. I don't avert my eyes, but hold my gaze to his, never wanting to look away.

I can't leave him here alone. I can't move out. Even if I came to the decision that it would be best if I left, I wouldn't be able to go. Because I'm selfish and every moment that I spend away from him could be his last. Or my last. It's a crazy world and I'm just living in it.

"Charlie, Fred, and George are coming over later to help us move," Oliver finally says. "Just in case you wanted to know."

Realizing that Oliver still hasn't quite forgiven Mrs. Weasley and Charlie for their actions at Christmas, I roll my eyes and leave the room.

--

True to his word, Oliver lets the three Weasley boys in shortly afterwards and, wanting to avoid them all, I spend most of the afternoon in Oliver's bedroom. Mallory joins me for a little while, smirking the whole time, but soon leaves to help Ben with some of his random belongings.

She just doesn't understand my dilemma!

Okay, so even I don't understand my dilemma, but I also don't understand Transfiguration so that doesn't really count.

A knock sounds on the bedroom door and I jump slightly, not expecting company.

"Yes?" I say.

The door opens and Oliver walks in, shutting it behind himself.

"Hey," he greets.

"Hey." I sit up in his bed as he takes a seat at the foot.

"Are you okay?" he asks, taking my hand in his. My heart flips; you'd think that I'd be used to such a casual touch by now.

"I'm fine," I shrug. "I'm just really not in the mood to deal with Charlie right now."

Oliver rolls his eyes. "You do realize that I'm mad at him and not you, right?" he asks. "I don't mind you talking to him; I just don't want him to get the wrong idea."

"No, I know," I assure him. "But I really don't want to deal with that right now. I'm with you and I don't understand why he keeps pressing the matter."

"Well, you've got to admit that it does look a little suspicious. I mean, you get together with me right after he leaves to go back to Romania. He probably thinks I'm your second choice. I can see where that could get confusing," he rambles.

I laugh lightly to myself and lean forward, pressing my lips against his, interrupting his rant. He returns the kiss eagerly.

"I chose you, Oliver," I assure him, pulling away. "Not Charlie. It was always you I wanted."

He smiles to himself before standing up. "Well, I just came in here to tell you that the pizza's here if you want to come eat with us…"

I reluctantly stand and follow him out of the room. Something about the way Oliver was talking clues me into the fact that he's determined to make Charlie realize that we are, in fact, in love. This should be interesting.

Mallory, Ben, Fred, George, and Charlie are already in the kitchen, heaping slices of pizza onto their plates when I arrive. Upon seeing me, Fred and George immediately drop their food (that's not in their mouths) and envelope me in a hug from both sides.

"Katie!" they both cry, squeezing me tightly.

"Guys, I can't breathe," I manage to choke out. Laughing, they let me go and return to their food. Charlie just gives me a wane smile before sitting down at the table. I return it half-heartedly and grab myself two slices of pizza.

The table's already full so I take a seat at the bar next to Oliver. He squeezes my hand gently and I return it before taking a bite of my pizza. Everyone begins talking at once, but I don't hear any of it. My mind is somewhere completely different.

If I'm going to ask Oliver if I can stay here, I'm going to have to do it tonight. My trial's tomorrow! I kind of wish Angelina was here. Unlike Mallory, she would be bold enough to ask Oliver for me. Not that that's what I want…

I wish he'd ask me. But, of course, it's not his place to do so.

"Oliver," I finally whisper as my stomach finishes tying itself in a knot. "I don't feel good. I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Are you nervous about tomorrow? The trial?" he asks. "Because everything's going to work itself out, Katie—believe me!"

"It's not really that," I admit with a small laugh. He just looks at me, confused. "I just really need to lie down."

"Uh, yeah, okay," he says. "Go to my room. I'll be in there after Ben leaves." I just nod and stand up from my seat.

"Katie Belle, where are you going?" Ben asks, using the pet name for me he'd adopted in the past month. Why, I'll never know.

"I don't feel very good," I say, telling as much of the truth as I can. "I think I'm going to go on to bed."

"Well, just think," Ben laughs, "after tonight you won't be sleeping in Oliver's bed anymore. You better enjoy it while it lasts."

I feel my cheeks flame red as both Fred and Charlie turn to glare at Ben as if he'd been the one to defile me. Oliver just smirks. This is obviously just what he'd wanted to rub in Charlie's face.

"You've been sleeping where?" Fred groans through clenched teeth. I decide that it's probably better not to answer him and head instead to Oliver's room.

"Hey, Katie," a voice calls down the hallway. I turn to find Charlie quickly approaching me. He stops a few steps away from me, but I don't say a word. "Listen, I just wanted to wish you good luck for tomorrow, you know. Maybe we can meet after the trial or something."

I'm about to respond when Oliver comes walking down the hall. "She's going to be with me after her trial," Oliver says harshly. Charlie turns to him guiltily and I can't help smiling up at Oliver. He's just so cute when he's jealous.

"Listen, Charlie," Oliver says, trying to retain some civility, but failing miserably. "Katie and I are together—get over it. I can't even believe that you would—"

Realizing that Oliver's not going to stop his rant anytime soon, I tune him out and instead make my way over to him. He falls silent as I gently kiss his lips right there in front of Charlie. He doesn't kiss me back as fiercely as he normally would, but I can tell that I've taken him by surprise. It's enough to prove his point.

"I'm tired," I finally say, pulling away and throwing Charlie one last disdainful glance. "Good night."

"Good night," I hear Oliver mutter as I shut his bedroom door behind me.

--

Even though I hadn't planned on actually falling asleep, somehow I manage it. I'll never understand how my body works. Most nights I can't get to sleep at all, but the one night that I actually have a legitimate cause to worry, I fall asleep fully dressed.

The sound of Oliver entering the room a few hours later awakens me. My eyes flutter open groggily.

"Shh," he whispers, walking over and gently kissing my forehead. "Go back to sleep."

Instead, I sit up in bed and watch as he takes off his shirt and jeans. Out of decency, he slips on a clean shirt, although I know for a fact that when I'm not here he doesn't sleep in one.

He turns around and seems surprised to find me sitting up. He laughs at me slightly before climbing into bed next to me. "Sorry," he apologizes. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"No, it's fine," I assure him. He kisses my lips and then lies down in bed. When I don't follow suit, he looks up at me worriedly.

"Katie, don't worry about tomorrow—please. Everything's going to work out fine. I'm not going to let them take you away form me."

"That's not what I'm worried about," I say, brushing off his comment. "Oliver, can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, anything."

"I don't want to live with Angelina and Fred."

A broad grin spreads across his face. "Was there a question in there somewhere?"

"Please don't make me say it," I beg.

"You have to say it, honey. Because if you don't, Fred's probably going to kill me."

"Oliver, can I live here? With you?"

"Yes, Katie, you can. I thought you'd never ask."

"I thought I'd never ask, too," I admit, cuddling up against him as I lay down in bed.

"Well, I wasn't really planning on letting you leave anyway. I don't like the idea of you being out of my sight for one second."

He takes my hand in his and we fall asleep next to each other. Just how it was meant to be.

--

**Once again, sorry for the wait.**

_Next time on _Love and War_: Katie's trial._

**Review, please. I need a little pick me up :)**


	24. The Trial

_---_

_The Trial:_

"Katie…Katie, wake up." I groan in response to the voice, but make no other move to acknowledge its presence. "Seriously, Katie, please wake up," Oliver laughs. I groan once more, but slowly open my eyes.

"What?" I ask rudely, not understanding the need to be awoken this early.

"Your trial's today," Oliver retorts, kissing the top of my head gently. "And my grandmother made sure that you're scheduled to go first so that you don't have to sit in a room with Dementors for hours, so we need to hurry up."

Just the mention of Dementors chills my blood and I quickly hop up and begin getting ready. I slip on one of the few suits that I owned for working at the _Daily Prophet_.

"So, how is this going to work?" I ask as I begin plaiting my hair down my back.

Oliver, already dressed, sits down next to me on his bed. "My mum's going to meet us there. Actually, I think my grandmother's going to be there too. She's taken this as a personal insult to her family."

I breathe deeply, trying to calm my nerves, but it doesn't seem to work.

"Katie, everything's going to be all right. I'm going to be with you all day and I'm not going to let them take you away from me."

Something about his reassurance comforts me and I'm able to breathe evenly.

"I just hate to be such a bother to your family," I admit.

"A bother?" Oliver laughs. "My mum has been having a grand ole time coming up with things to say to Umbridge. She loves you, Katie. That may be hard for you to understand—it's hard for me to understand—but it's true. She loved your mum and this is the least that she can do for her."

"This is all my mum's fault," I mutter, getting up from my place on the bed to locate my shoes.

"Don't say that," Oliver says. "No one chooses to die."

I just snort in response because some times I think that it's just the opposite. She was a witch—a muggle disease shouldn't have been able to kill her.

"I'm ready to go," I shrug.

Oliver just nods his head and, taking me by the hand, we Apparate to the Ministry of Magic. He makes his way over to the visitor's desk and checks us both in, although I'm not paying any attention. When they ask me for my wand, I give it to them without question and I can tell by the look on Oliver's face that my complacency worries him.

We are told to wait quietly in the Atrium until someone arrives to retrieve us and Oliver leads me over to some conveniently placed sofas where I sit down. About twenty minutes later, Elizabeth and Emma Wood arrive. Oliver instructs me to wait while he goes over and talks to them. With his back to me, I can't make out anything he's saying and I know he's doing it so I don't worry. He still hasn't wrapped his head around the fact that I'm a big girl now.

All three walk over to me and I do my best to clear my head and make intelligible conversation.

"Katie, honey, how are you doing?" Mrs. Wood asks me politely, taking my hands in her own.

"I'm okay," I admit. "A little nervous, I guess."

"Well of course you are," Oliver's grandmother chimes in. "But there really is no reason—this is all just one big misunderstanding. Elizabeth and I will sort this out easily. They may not even wish to speak with you."

"Well, thank you," I say.

"Don't even mention it, Katie. You're nearly family after all." Elizabeth Wood smiles, a secret twinkle in her eyes that only Oliver and I understand. I just nod mutely, my speech capabilities coming to an abrupt halt.

"Elizabeth, Emma!" an elderly witch exclaims, making her way across the now crowded Atrium. "Oh, it feels like it's been years since I've seen you two." Oliver rolls his eyes at me, clearly annoyed.

"Mafalda!" Emma Wood exclaims, pecking each of her cheeks once. "It_ has_ been too long, hasn't it?"

"Mafalda Hopkirk," Oliver whispers to me. "Head of the Improper Use of Magic Office."

"Yes, I only wish that we could have met under better circumstances. You must be Katherine Bell?" she asks, turning to me instead. I only nod.

"Yes, she is," Elizabeth Wood clarifies, as if my nod was not enough. "She's Oliver's fiancée."

"Oh well, congratulations. May I see the ring?" she asks excitedly. I hold out my hand, trying to steady it. If she notices the shaking, she doesn't mention it. "It's gorgeous!" she exclaims. "I'm very happy for you two."

"Thank you," Oliver says, taking my hand once more. "But we really would like to get this whole thing over with if you don't mind terribly."

Elizabeth Wood looks at her son, startled by his audacity, but Emma Wood only nods in agreement. "Yes, I've got an appointment with Pius after this and I would hate to be late."

"Oh yes, the Minister did mention that," Mafalda agrees. "We better get moving then. Katie, I'm supposed to escort you down to the holding room while Dolores interviews the Woods. It won't take too long, I promise."

"Um, she's not going anywhere alone," Oliver corrects and Elizabeth once again throws him a wary glance.

"Well, son, my instructions were quite clear. As you requested, we have removed the Dementors from the premises for the duration of this trial, but there is little else I can do."

"I'm not asking you to do anything," Oliver says politely. "I simply want to be interviewed with Katie rather than my mother and grandmother. That doesn't seem like too much to ask, now does it?"

"As you wish," Hopkirk answers tersely. "I'll take the two of you down to the holding area, then. Elizabeth, can you find your own way down to the court chambers? Dolores should be down there to meet you. I've just got to get Katie to fill out a few preliminary forms first."

"Yes, that's fine," Elizabeth says warily. Mafalda starts walking towards the lifts and I begin to follow her, but not before I hear Elizabeth Wood whisper quietly to her son. "Stay near her, Oliver." Oliver catches up to me quickly.

We're silent in the lifts and when we arrive at the "holding rooms", Mafalda gives me a stack of papers to fill out. She kindly explains everything. I stop listening as she continues explaining, as teachers often do, past the point of necessity. Oliver continues listening, however, and I even hear him ask a few questions about the trial but I'm not paying that much attention.

"So, you're going to be present while Katie's in there, right?" I hear Oliver ask.

"Sadly, no," she admits. "I'm doing the record-keeping for your mum and grandmother, but I have other business to attend to after that. They'll send someone else up."

"And who else is in there?" I ask nervously.

"Only Umbridge and Yaxley. It's going to quick and simple—I promise." Her smile is not at all reassuring, but I don't comment. She leaves the room, promising to come and retrieve my papers after she's done with Oliver's relatives.

As I begin filling them out, I quickly realize that I don't even know the answers to a lot of these questions.

"Oliver, I have no clue what hospital I was born at," I tell him, half laughing. "Or what my mum's first job was. And I definitely don't feel comfortable giving them any information at all on my dad."

Oliver sighs deeply. "Just fill out what you're comfortable filling out. I don't think it's going to be a problem."

"Is something wrong?" I ask, looking up from the forms. "You seem kind of worried."

"It's not…that, Katie," he says, getting up from his place beside me and slowly beginning to pace the room. "It's…Listen, even if you _were_ a muggleborn, my grandmother could get you out of this. That's not what's bothering me. They can't accuse you of anything without losing the support of my Grandparents and they know that. My blood is purer than most of theirs."

"Then, what's the—"

"It's the fact that they think we're engaged. Yaxley probably still thinks that you have a thing for Fred and he's going to use that to his advantage. I'm scared of what he might make _us _do."

"Like what?"

"Like get married—soon. I love you, Katie, but I don't think either of us is ready for that." Um, definitely not.

"Okay…" I mutter, looking back at the papers. I can't concentrate. "But if it came down to that…"

"I'd marry you, Katie. No question about it."

"Okay, thank you," I say, already breathing easier.

"Just don't worry. Everything's going to be fine."

I fill out the papers to the best of my ability and set them on the stone bench in the center of the room before getting up and pacing with Oliver. He laughs at me as I join him. I lean into him slightly and he pulls me into a hug, trying to comfort me.

"I love you, Katie," he whispers.

"I love you too." Without thinking, I press my lips to his. Before I even notice what has happened, he has me pushed up against the cold stone wall. I tangle my fingers in his hair as he runs his hands all over my body.

I don't know how long we stayed like that—it felt like at least an hour, and it possibly was. All I know is that I never wanted that moment to end. It was pure bliss and as long as we stayed wrapped in each others arms, nothing that was about to happen could hurt us.

Of course, the world didn't stop simply for us. The sound of someone clearing their throat from the doorway startles us apart. There, standing in front of us and blushing profusely is Percy Weasley.

"The court's ready for you now," he mumbles, picking the stack of papers up off of the bench. "If you would follow me, please."

I try to fix my hair as we begin following him down a long hallway. Oliver's instantly by his side, all former animosities aside, asking him every little detail he can muster about what's about to happen.

"Oliver, I can't tell you anything," he insists and it's obvious that he wishes he could. "My hands are tied. Anything I say to you could land me in Azkaban."

Oliver just nods.

"Percy, do you mind me asking you a question?" I say, trying to put my own problems aside for a few seconds. Even though I don't know him that well, I feel like I do. Fred's been so mad at him for years that it's hard not to.

"Listen, I told you. I can't tell you anything."

"No, it's nothing like that. I just…why do you work here?"

He looks at me in surprise. "I don't have a choice anymore," he mutters as we continue walking.

"Well, in case you were wondering about your family or anything…Fred's engaged now. To Angelina. They haven't set a date."

He looks at me once more and this time stops walking completely. "Really?"

"Yeah. And Charlie moved back home after Christmas."

"How's Ginny?" he asks suddenly.

"I talked to her at Christmas and she's good. I think she's causing some trouble at Hogwarts, though, but she's not going to listen to anyone's warnings about that." Percy only nods and I can see in his eyes how much he needed that information.

"I should probably…" He trials off, leading us once more down the hallway. Oliver takes my hand as we reach the door to the courtroom. Percy opens it and allows us to walk through first.

The room is not that big, but the height of it makes it seem enormous. Umbridge and Yaxley sit on a raised platform on one side of the room. Percy gestures for Oliver and me to take the two empty seats in the center. The one obviously meant for me has chains hanging off of the arms. I gulp, but make my way over. Oliver stops me before I can take a seat, however, and gestures for me to sit in the other one. I follow his orders.

As Oliver sits in the chair, the chains clank on each side, wanting to contain him, but Umbridge flicks her stout wand at the chair once and the chains subside.

"You know, it is customary for the accused to sit in that chair," Umbridge informs Oliver disdainfully.

"It is also customary for the accused to be a muggleborn so you can see why it shouldn't matter who sits in which chair."

"Your mother did say you might be slightly difficult," she says.

"My mother knows me well. And I assume she straightened this whole misunderstanding out."

"She presented some reasonable evidence, yes, but we would still like to speak to the accused and her _fiancé_."

"Well, of course," Oliver replies.

"Are you, the accused, Katharine Ann Bell?" Yaxley asks, looking over at me with a fierce intensity that I don't understand.

"I am," I answer.

"Daughter of Caroline and Liam Bell?"

"Yes."

"And is it true that your father is a muggle?"

"It is."

"And where might we find your father at this moment?" I look to Oliver for help.

"I don't see how that is relevant to this trail at all," Oliver argues.

"I'll decide what is relevant," Yaxley hisses. "Answer the question."

"I don't know where he is," I answer, a hint of anger etching its way into my voice. It's true enough. I only know what hemisphere he's in. That's quite vague in the grand scheme of things...

"I think you're lying!"

"Well, you can think whatever you want," I retort. Umbridge smirks slightly from her post and I can tell that it's not every day someone talks back to Yaxley. I'm getting the impression that she doesn't like her co-worker very much.

"Miss Bell, what is your relationship with the Weasley family?"

"This again?" I ask angrily. "I've told you before—we're friends. Fred Weasley and I are _friends_. Nothing more."

"I don't think that this inquisition should serve to satisfy your personal need for information on the Weasley family," Oliver says, throwing pointed glances at Percy. "If you have no reason to hold Katie any longer…"

"Well, we just have a few more things to work out," Umbridge says in her sickly sweet voice. "You see, your mum presented the evidence, but the fact remains that we have no binding legal documents to prove that Katherine Bell is blood related to Caroline Bell. This leaves us with no other choice than to assume that she's an adopted muggle who stole her mother's magic, killing innocent Caroline Bell in the process."

"I _what_?!" I cry. Never once in my life have I been accused of killing my own mother. "That's absurd. I was just a kid when she died!"

"There's no predicting the tendencies of you people," Umbridge says. You people?

"So what does this mean?" Oliver asks through clenched teeth and I can tell that he's dying to give them a piece of his mind. "I'm sure my grandmother wasn't too happy when you told _her _this news."

"Oh, she definitely wasn't," Yaxley laughs. "Seemed to think that this was an insult to her family. We simply informed her that we were doing her a favor. Why would she want a muggleborn to marry into her family?"

"She didn't take that very well either," Umbridge adds. "So, we came up with a compromise. "Katherine Bell will not be listed as a muggleborn just so long as the two of you get married by the tentative date of next December."

"That's it?" I ask after a moment of silence.

"You do know that that's when we were planning on getting married anyway, right?" Oliver asks, also rather surprised.

"Well, the obvious thing would be to have you get married right away, but your grandmother didn't seem to find that idea very favorable," Umbridge states calmly. The absurdity of it all makes me want to bust out laughing. These two powerful ministry officials have absolutely no sway over Emma Wood. "She kept saying something about the perfect Christmastime wedding…"

"So, we can go then?" I ask happily when nothing more is said.

"I suppose so," Umbridge admits. "But remember the rule—married by next Christmas."

"Of course," Oliver answers with a laugh, rushing me out of the room. "Next December—perfect Christmas wedding—got it."

The last thing I catch sight of is a fuming Yaxley.

I'm not quite sure what all of this means. Maybe I _will_ have to marry Oliver next Christmas, but is that really so bad after all? Hell, he may have actually proposed by then. So many things can happen in a year that I honestly feel that it's nothing to worry about.

For the first time in many months, I feel safe.

--

**Review, Please :D**


	25. Life

_--_

_Life:_

My life slowly began to work its way back into a routine—even if it was a boring one. Much to my annoyance, I was awoken every single morning at the crack of dawn as Oliver climbed out of bed for practice. I never thought I would grow to hate his love of Quidditch more than I did during my fourth year, but it turns out I was wrong. At least during his maniacal captaincy, I wasn't awoken before the birds…

Well, okay, there was that one time.

The logical thing to do would be to move into Ben's old room, but I can't bring myself to do it. Although I wouldn't admit my dependency to anyone, I've grown quite attached to the feel of Oliver's warm body next to mine.

After about a week of these early morning disturbances, I confronted him. Although he promised to be quieter, it made little difference. It turns out I can sleep through anything except Oliver. The slightest movement from him and I'm wide awake.

I take to getting up with him after another hopeless week and it just becomes a habit. For the first time ever, I actually don't mind waking up while it's still dark outside. We normally have a cup of coffee together (or at least I have a cup of coffee—Oliver still hasn't taken to such a blatantly American tradition), and I go back to sleep after he leaves.

This isn't to say, however, that it's the most pleasant experience in the world. Some habits are hard to break and our conversations consist of a lot of grunting on my part. I don't know what it is, really. Maybe my vocal coordination is aided by sunlight…

After he leaves for practice, I slip back into bed and normally don't wake up until noon. Angelina stops by on the rare occasions that she doesn't have training (although I have noticed that her schedule seems to be a lot more lenient than Oliver's), and Leanne does the same when she's not busy. Mallory's over more often than anyone else considering that Ben's at these grueling practices also. But, unlike me, she seems to have a life outside of her boyfriend.

All in all, I'm not sure how well I'm adjusting to living with Oliver. It's almost as though I'm living alone half of the time. Okay, that was a bit of an exaggeration. I'm still seeing him as much as I was before, but without Ben here to entertain me everyday, I get bored.

Don't get me wrong, Oliver's being perfectly fine to me. In fact, I think he's enjoying this whole situation. He's very conscience of the fact that I'm alone a lot, and he heads home straight after practice. I complained about that once—told him to go spend some time with his own friends. He told me that he would when I do.

One morning in early February, I look out the window to find that a blanket of snow covers the ground. It's actually been there for weeks now, but I was just too distracted to notice it. I love winter. Maybe I'll slip outside a little later, when Oliver's here to keep me warm.

I'm surprised when I hear a knock at the door. I know for a fact that Angelina, Leanne, and Mallory are all busy, so I head to the door with my heart beating fiercely. These days there's no telling what to expect on the other side.

I peek through the curtains to see Charlie Weasley standing on the mat. I groan audibly before opening the door.

"You've got to be kidding me," I say, letting him in against my better judgment.

"No, not really," he counters, pushing past me. "But I need to talk to you and I know that Oliver's at practice."

"Charlie, please just give up," I groan. "This is getting ridiculous. Why can't you understand that Oliver and I are happy together?"

"I do!" he laughs, as if it's the most absurd suggestion in the world. "Do you have any food?"

"I don't know," I answer honestly. He just shrugs and heads towards the kitchen. "What are you doing here, then?" I ask as he begins digging through the cabinets.

"I don't know…I just didn't want to leave things the way we did," he says, turning to face me. "I'm sorry I was rude to you and Oliver. I just have a hard time letting go and in my head you were still mine." He gives me an apologetic smile and I can't help but return it. There's just something about Charlie—much like with Fred and George—that makes it impossible for me to get mad at him.

"I was never mad at you," I assure him as he finds some crisps hidden in the cupboard. "I just don't like you questioning my relationships."

"I know. And I'm sorry." We stand there in silence for a few seconds while I try to decide whether to let him stay. It seems rude to kick him out now, but I'm almost positive Oliver wouldn't approve.

"So, what do you do here alone all day?" he asks me.

"Nothing really," I admit. "I was thinking about trying to get my old job back, but—"

"Don't go back to the _Daily Prophet_," he instructs. "You'd just be digging your own grave."

"Yeah, exactly," I agree. "I just get so bored here, you know?"

"I _would_ imagine that it gets a bit lonely."

"That's not what I said," I can't help but add and to my surprise, he laughs.

"You're one of those people who can't share their feelings, aren't you?" he laughs. "Being lonely is nothing to be ashamed of."

"I know," I say quickly. "But I'm not."

"Sure. Well, why don't you work at the joke shop? It will give you something to do and I'm sure Fred and George could use some help."

"You really think so?" I ask, taking a seat at the kitchen table. Strangely, this idea has never occurred to me.

"Yeah. They're definitely short-handed. Verity quit after the…incident. Plus, I'd feel better about you working there. As much as Fred might not think so, you're safer with him than here alone."

"You know, that's actually not a bad idea," I muse.

"See," he says, "I do have good ideas every once in a while."

Charlie and I sit there just talking a lot longer than I expected. It felt like that first time at Bill and Fleur's wedding again—uncomplicated by all of our mixed emotions. I did, however, lose track of the time.

This means that, quite simply, when Oliver arrived home around five the first thing that he saw was his girlfriend having a very amiable conversation with a guy who had just recently professed his love for her.

Damn. I'm in trouble now.

"Oliver!" I cry, jumping up from the table. That's right, Katie. Act guilty. "Hi."

"Hi," he replies, and even though he tries to hide it, I can see the anger and frustration built up in his eyes.

Charlie stands up also. "Listen, Oliver, we were just talking. I felt bad about the other night and—"

"I honestly don't care," Oliver interrupts him, staring straight at me the whole time. Great, this is apparently all my fault. "Would you two like me to leave so you can continue talking or—"

"I was just leaving," Charlie quickly intones.

I look into Oliver's eyes and he stares back. Neither of us makes eye contact with Charlie as he brushes past us and out of the room. When he slams the front door shut on his way out, I jump.

Oliver just continues to stare, that same hurt expression in his eyes.

"Oliver, what do you want me to say?" I whisper, scared of what he's about to do. He doesn't answer. "I'm sorry," I finally continue. "But Charlie was telling the truth—nothing happened."

"It doesn't change the fact that he was here, Katie!" Oliver says angrily, storming past me and into the kitchen.

"He just showed up—what was I supposed to do?"

"Tell him to leave!" Oliver cries, turning around to emphasize his point. "Hell, you didn't even have to answer the door in the first place! You obviously had some desire to talk to him."

"That's not fair," I argue, now getting angry myself. Oliver just rolls his eyes before using his wand to heat up some leftover pizza. In his anger, the pizza catches fire and he swears as he puts it out using magic. "Oliver, come on," I beg. "You know that Charlie and I are friends."

"It doesn't change the fact that he's in love with you. Every time I see you two together, I get flashbacks of that night at Leanne and Cullen's wedding. And I _hate_ that."

"Well, that's not my fault, Oliver. I lived with you for months while you were fucking Jaiden. Do you not think that that was a bit hard for me? There's not a damn place in this house that doesn't remind me of you and her!"

He's silent for several seconds and I can tell that my comment only served to make him angrier. He's obviously not in the mood for the blame to be put on him.

"I'm sure you have plenty of girls who are friends," I say, calming myself down slightly.

"Yeah, but I don't bring them here. And I'd appreciate it if you'd offer me the same courtesy. It's not your house after all—I'm the one paying the damn bills!"

His words sting, but I'm determined for him not to know how much it hurts me. "Is that really how you feel?" I cry. "Because if I'm using too much electricity for you, then I can just leave."

"Katie, that's not what I—"

"It obviously is, Oliver. If you want me out of here, just tell me. I'd be glad to go!"

"Really? You'd just leave that easily?" he yells. "I'm that forgettable."

"Well I have to admit that you _are_ making it easier," I retort.

"Dear God!" he cries, rubbing his head in annoyance. "When the hell did you get so damn frustrating?"

"I don't know; probably around the same time that you got that stick jammed up your ass."

He stands there in silence for a minute and I'm about to apologize for taking it too far when he laughs. He continues laughing as he sinks down to sit on the floor in front of the sink. "What are we even fighting about?" he asks, looking me in the eyes.

"I can't remember," I answer, joining him on the floor. "I think it had something to do with Charlie."

"Ugh," Oliver groans. "I hate him." I laugh lightly, snuggling closer to Oliver's side and resting my head on his shoulder. He rubs my hair for a few minutes and I almost fall asleep right then and there, I'm just so comfortable. "I'm sorry I'm never here, Katie. I'm trying so hard."

"I know," I say. "Listen, I think I'm going to try to get a job working at the joke shop. It'll give me something to do, you know?"

He groans, but I feel him nod. "You're not looking for my permission," he says and it's not a question. If there's anything that Oliver understands about me it's the fact that I make my own decisions.

"No, but I do want your opinion."

"I don't want you to do it," he says without hesitation, "but I know that I can't change your mind. It hardly matters, anyway. Fred's never going to let you after what happened to Alicia." I purse my lips in frustration. "It's his call, Katie."

"Fine," I agree. "So, how was practice?"

And there on the kitchen floor, he is instantly dragged to some other place. Some place where it's just him and Quidditch. I swear if it was possible for a man to have sex with a sport, Oliver would have found a way to do it by now. Sometimes I just feel like I can never compete with the game that takes up all of his time. An insane jealousy, I know, but Quidditch will forever be his first love.

I just watch Oliver, his face lighting up as he talks, and I can't help but remember why I first fell in love with him. There's just a passion about him that I could never imagine having myself. When he sets his mind to something, there is no way that he's not going to get it.

But has he ever set his mind to us? To making this relationship last? I can't help but think about what our future together looks like.

Can I imagine us still being together years from now?

As Oliver continues talking, I find my answer. There's no part of me that wouldn't want to be listening to this same drone years from now. I would never get tired of hearing Oliver tell me about his day, no matter how insubstantial it might be.

I can see myself, maybe in the not so distant future, with a wedding band on my finger and Oliver right beside me. Hell, I can even picture kids and those were definitely not in my plans just a few months ago. Being with Oliver has changed me more than I ever imagined that it would.

And it scares me. Because unlike back at Hogwarts, this feels real. School romances have a short shelf-life, but this has potential to really last. This has potential to satisfy me for not only weeks or months, but for years. Forever.

Is forever real? Is it even possible to have a love that spans that amount of time? Because I want it—so bad. But I'm not sure I'm ready for forever just yet.

All I know is that I love Oliver. And that's enough for now.

I interrupt Oliver's psycho-babble by kissing him deeply. As if he was expecting it, he kisses me back without question.

"I'm sorry for saying that you were frustrating," he says after a while.

"I'm sorry for saying you have a stick up your ass," I reply. He laughs once more.

"I just get jealous sometimes, Katie. I can't help it. And I swear I'll make up all of the time that I can't be with you. I have tomorrow off, so we can do something, okay?"

"That sounds nice," I answer.

"What _do_ you want to do tomorrow?" he asks after a while. "I made reservations at that fancy Italian place down the street a few weeks ago, but we can do anything."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, turning to him with confusion etched onto my face.

"Valentine's Day…?"

"Valentine's Day!?" I cry, shocked. "Are you serious? When did that happen?"

"You're absolutely horrible at being a girl, you know that?" he laughs.

"Shut up!" I laugh.

"Honestly, I probably wouldn't have remembered myself if Ben wasn't planning on—" Oliver stops himself before finishing his sentence and that, more than anything else, tips me off to the fact that the information he's withholding is something that I'm going to want to know.

"What's Ben doing?" I ask excitedly.

"Katie, that just slipped out. You're not supposed to know…"

"Oh my God!" I exclaim, jumping up from my place on the floor. Oliver reluctantly follows me up. "He's going to ask her, isn't he?"

"Katie…"

"He is!" I squeal. "Oh my God! He's going to ask her to marry him! Mallory is going to die!"

"Well, hopefully she says yes first or I'm not sure Ben will be able to get on with his life," Oliver says.

"Oh my God!" I repeat and Oliver just laughs at me.

"You must have seen this coming…"

"Of course I did, but it's still a big deal! How's he going to do it?"

"I don't know, Katie," Oliver says patronizingly.

"Yeah, right," I laugh. "You just don't want to tell me."

"You're right, I don't," Oliver agrees. "Of course it doesn't even matter now because no matter what I do for you tomorrow, Ben's already blown me out of the water."

"Don't worry," I say, placing a gentle kiss on his lips. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"Oh, well, thank you."

"God, everyone's getting married," I say after taking the information in.

"She hasn't said yes yet…"

"But you know what I mean. It's just… I don't know…a bit strange, I guess. Like Fred and Angelina. Sure they were great for each other back in school, but what were the chances that they'd actually get engaged. It just seems unreal."

"Yeah, it does," Oliver agrees. "But then again, I still don't understand how anyone stands Fred for long periods of time." I hit him playfully on the arm, but it does get me to thinking more about Angelina and Fred. Was their relationship built on something that can withstand even this war?

I fall asleep happier than I've felt in a long time. And surprisingly, for the first time in weeks, I could care less about how early Oliver decides to wake me up.

--

When I finally do open my eyes the next morning, I'm thankful to hear birds singing from outside. I roll over to find Oliver facing me. He smiles at me brightly as I push my hair out of my eyes.

"Morning, Sunshine," he says, leaning over to kiss me.

"Good morning," I reply.

"So did you ever decide exactly what you want to do today?" I stare around the room, already lit by the morning sunlight, and I can't think of one place I'd rather be.

"Yeah," I finally say, a big smile spreading its way across my face. "I want to stay here—in bed, all day."

Oliver laughs lightly. "Is that really it? Mallory gets a diamond ring and you want me to counter that by buying you nothing and taking you nowhere?"

"Do you honestly think it could get better than this?" I ask.

"You're really serious," he says, looking into my eyes. "I mean, I know sometimes girls say the opposite of what they mean, but you really do want to stay here?"

"Please?" I beg, like a little kid asking to stay home from school. "We could just lay here. I don't want to bother with getting all dressed up. I just like being me."

"And I wouldn't have you any other way," Oliver says.

So that's how we stayed. For hours he just let me stay folded up in his arms, comfortable and warm. It was the best I've felt in months. Around noon, however, his hunger got the best of him and he dragged me out of bed so that I could help him cook some breakfast.

He's been insisting that I learn to cook for a while now and since I can't even stick bread in a toaster without burning it, he's taking it slow. Breakfast foods first. We bring our food back to the bedroom and eat it together in bed.

Somewhere between lunch and dinner, Mallory calls me on my mobile, screaming inaudibly. I'm glad Oliver gave me the forewarning because without it I don't think I would have ever been able to make out what she was trying to tell me. After promising to show me the ring tomorrow, she hangs up and I'm left to tell Oliver that she accepted Ben's proposal. Oliver's happy, of course, but I can tell that his mind's elsewhere.

"What's wrong?" I ask, scooting closer to him under the sheets.

"Absolutely nothing," he says. "Everything's perfect. I was just thinking about some stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" I ask, tilting my head back to look into his eyes.

"I'd rather not say…"

"Well, why?" I ask, ever curious.

"Because I don't want to seem…over eager."

"You do realize you're going to have to explain that statement now, right?' I ask.

"It's just…I don't know whether to wait anymore," he says.

"Wait to tell me or—"

"No, like wait wait. Like wait to have sex." I feel a blush rise to my cheeks and although I expected this conversation to come sooner or later, I was not prepared for it this early.

"Like wait for what?' I ask.

"I don't know. I mean, back at Hogwarts I told myself that I wasn't going to have sex with you until you were out of school, but then we broke up and…you're out of school. I just don't know anymore."

"Well, do you want to wait until we get married?" I ask, fearing the answer. I know he's slept with girls before and the thought of him not wanting to have sex with me now worries me a bit.

He laughs slightly. "No, Katie. Trust me when I say that no normal guy wants to wait until he gets married to have sex. The reason we do is because we're so hopelessly in love with girls that have morals." A smile spreads across my face.

"My morals died a long time ago," I say.

"So…"

"So, when the time's right, the time's right. That doesn't necessarily mean we have to wait until we get married, but I don't want to rush things."

"I'm willing to wait," he says.

"I know," I reply.

He kisses my neck softly and I can't help the sigh that escapes from my lips. "I love you so much, Katie. I need you to know that."

"I do. And I love you, too."

At that moment, both Oliver and I stiffen as we hear the fireplace come to life in the next room. Oliver rushes to it and I'm close behind him. Just as I step into the living room so does Alicia, covered head to toe in soot.

"Alicia!" I cry, shocked. I run over to greet her, surprised at her entrance but glad to see her nonetheless. It's only then that I notice she's crying.

"Katie!" she cries and I pull her into a tight hug, my heart nearly stopping with worry.

"Alicia, what's wrong? Is everyone okay? What's going on?"

"No, no, everything's fine," she says, shaking her head to emphasize the point. "I just…I need to talk to someone."

"I'll fix the extra bed for you," Oliver says, leaving us alone.

"Alicia, what's wrong?" I ask, pulling away from my friend.

"I did something really stupid, Katie."

"You're going to have to give me more information than that if you want my help…"

"I slept with Lee."

And suddenly everything I thought I knew slipped through the cracks. Because after that piece of news, it becomes obvious that anything—and I mean_ anything_—could happen at any moment to just ruin everything.

--

**Bit of a cliffie, I know. Sorry. But this was a longer chapter :) Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!**

**Review, please.**


	26. Secrets

**This chapter mentions Oliver's Puddlemere Teammates. It's been a while since they've been in the story, so if you want a refresher on who they are, I suggest you skim through the last part of the chapter titled 'Puddlemere's Charity Ball'. Just if you want to, it's really not necessary to understand the chapter.**

--

_Secrets:_

"I slept with Lee." The absurdity of that statement takes a while to set in. Alicia and Lee?

"What? How?!"

"How?" she asks, humor evident in her voice even as her eyes glisten with tears.

"No, I mean—no, I _know_ how. Alicia, what…?"

A goofy grin spreads across her face. "It just kind of happened."

"No offense, but stuff like that doesn't just happen. Especially not since Lee's been on the run from the Ministry for months."

"Well, he's actually…not. Not anymore." Although I can tell that Alicia's still upset, I can also tell that she just needs someone to listen to her. Her tears have stopped at least, which is good. I don't handle tears too well. That's Angelina's territory.

"What happened?" I ask again, trying not to be judgmental before I hear the whole story. But, honestly, how could she do this to George? They broke up less than two months ago and Lee's his best friend.

"I don't know really. I mean, after I left for France, Lee and I started owling each other and he just…he made me feel better, Katie. I knew that he was looking for a place to stay and, well, France seemed like a safer place than anywhere else."

"He's _living_ with you?!" I cry. Alicia just nods. "Since when?"

"He's been there almost two weeks now. Him and my brother have always been really close and he told Lee that he could stay as long as the Death Eaters don't get word of where he is."

"That's putting both you and your brother at a risk, Alicia!"

"Lee's being extremely careful, though. We have all kinds of protective charms on the house. I'm not worried." I close my eyes in frustration, but don't say a word.

"You-Know-Who isn't doing much in France," Alicia explains softly. "We're safe. For the first time in years, I feel safe." We sit in silence for a few minutes as I let all of this information sink in.

Sure, the fact that Alicia and Lee have slept together bothers me, but it's nothing to the fact that they're living together too. It's not that I think they're a strange couple—well, okay, it is a little bit—but I can't even begin to picture them together in my mind. It's always been Alicia and George. Anything different just seems weird.

"Are you mad at me?" Alicia asks.

"No, no, of course I'm not, honey," I answer honestly. "I'm just trying to understand. How did this happen? Are you dating him?"

"No, not really. My brother was working late or something like that…Lee and I were just talking and the next thing I know he's kissing me."

"And you didn't stop him?"

"No one's ever kissed me except George…I didn't want to stop him. It was so different."

"Better?" I can't help but ask.

"Don't you think I would have stopped him if it wasn't better?" she smirks. I laugh lightly because I know it must be true. I still remember what it was like to snog Lee. The boy definitely knows what he's doing.

Wait a minute…

"Oh God!" I cry, throwing my hands over my face as an unpleasant thought hits me.

"What?" Alicia cries, suddenly worried.

"That's all three of us," I say, removing my hands from my temples with a wary smile. Alicia just looks at me curiously. "Me, you, and Angelina. We've all snogged Lee."

Alicia starts laughing then and I can't help but join in.

"Feeling better?" Oliver asks, leaning against the door frame and watching us with a smirk on his face.

"Slightly," Alicia mutters.

"What's so funny?" Oliver asks warily, as if he's not sure he wants to hear the answer. I look to Alicia for permission to tell him and she just nods, still laughing.

"Angelina, Alicia, and I have all made out with Lee," I laugh. "It's just funny."

"And a bit pathetic too," Oliver says, but I can see the laughter behind his words.

"What? Do you not like the thought of your girlfriend with another guy?" Alicia asks and I turn to glare at her.

"Actually, I don't," Oliver says. "But Ben's old bed is fixed up for you if you still want to stay over."

"Thank you," Alicia mutters. "And if you could keep that little bit of information to yourself, it would be greatly appreciated."

"Do you really think I would willingly become involved in this? I have a feeling a certain Weasley twin you used to date would kill me."

"Probably so," I laugh. The smile on Alicia's face disappears at the mention of George.

"Listen," Oliver says, obviously noticing Alicia's discomfort. "I can call Ben and disappear tonight if you two want the house to yourselves."

"No you can't," I mutter. "It's Valentine's Day." And Ben just asked his girlfriend to marry him.

"Oh, right. Well then, I think I'm going to go lock myself in my room."

"Oliver, you don't have to do that," Alicia argues. "I didn't mean to intrude on anything. I forgot all about it being Valentine's Day. I'm sorry—I'm probably interrupting something."

"You're really not," I argue. "Let's just go talk in Ben's room and then you can decide whether to go home or stay here."

"If you say so…" she says warily. I lead her towards Ben's room, Oliver following close behind. I point the room out to her and turn back to Oliver.

"I'm sorry about this," I whisper to him. "But I think she really needs someone to talk to."

"No, it's fine. But everything is okay, right? She's just upset about snogging Lee."

"Yeah, it's nothing serious."

"Okay. Well, I'll be in our room if you need me…I'll probably be asleep, but wake me up before you go to bed." He kisses me on the forehead gently and disappears into 'our room'. Why does his casual use of those words make my heart flutter?

Alicia's lying down on Ben's bed when I enter. One look at her face shows me that her tears are back again. I don't think I've ever met someone with such erratic emotions.

"Alicia, honey, please tell me exactly what happened. If you wanted this—which it seems like you did—then why are you so upset?"

"_Because_ I wanted this, Katie. And I can't have it because it's going to kill George. Not to mention the fact that sleeping with Lee is against _all_ of my moral values. I was raised better than to jump into bed with a guy I'm not even dating! I never even slept with George and we dated for three years."

"Well, do you regret it? Is that what this is about?" That goofy smile covers her face once more.

"You couldn't pay me to take it back," she says. I chuckle at that.

"I think I'm missing something, then."

"How could I do this to George?" I open my mouth to reassure her, but I can't come up with an answer to her question. Instead, I ask one of my own.

"When did this happen?"

"Last night." Oh, wow. I figured this was something she'd had time to dwell on. No wonder her emotions are a bit raw.

"And have you talked to him since?" I ask worriedly. Although I can't really see Lee as the type of person to avoid confrontation, Alicia's only too experienced in dancing around the subject. She laughs humorlessly.

"No. When I woke up this morning, he was gone. He left a note, though," she says and pulls a sheet of paper out of her jacket pocket. It's only then that I notice she is still in her pajamas except for the jacket. I look at the note in surprise, but take it from her hands and gently unfold it.

_Alicia, _it reads,

_I can't apologize enough for not being there when you wake up. Don't think anything of it—please! It would kill me if you thought this was your fault. I loved last night and, if you don't regret it, I have no desire for it to just be a one time thing. I know this is complicated and I know that we need to talk. I can't tell you where I've gone, but I'll be back soon. Until then, I'll be thinking of you._

_Lee._

"Does he seriously just leave without telling you where he's going?" I ask, frustrated.

"Almost everyday," Alicia muses. "He does a lot of work for the Order, so I've stopped asking. I think he did a Potterwatch episode tonight, though."

"Oh yeah, he did," I say, recalling the date. "I missed it. The password was 'The Chosen One' tonight." I climb into bed next to her and we sit in silence for a few minutes.

"The thing is, I swore I wouldn't have sex until I got married. This would just kill George. Even if he could accept Lee and me dating, he'd never forgive me for that."

"Well, when you broke up with George, was it just because you were leaving the country or was it more than that?"

"It was more than that. I just wasn't happy. I made sure that George knew that before I left; I didn't want him hanging on to some lost hope. He's been my best friend for so long, but I just couldn't connect with him romantically anymore. It wasn't like with you and Oliver. He wasn't someone I could see myself spending the rest of my life with. I don't know what went wrong between us."

"Sometimes these things just happen," I mutter. "So, just to be clear, you don't still love him?"

"Of course I still love him," she says in surprise. "But I'm not _in_ love with him. There's a—"

"—difference, I know," I say.

"Do you think I'm a horrible person?" she asks quietly.

"You didn't do anything wrong," I say.

"That's not what I asked." Realizing she really wants me to think about my answer, I do.

"You want me to be honest?" I ask.

"Yes, please."

"You did nothing wrong, Alicia. It's unorthodox, yes, but if you really have feelings for Lee then this was bound to happen sooner or later. George is going to be angry, but maybe for once you should put yourself first."

"The thing is," Alicia muses, "if George is mad at me, then Fred is mad at me. And if Fred's mad at me, then Angelina's mad at me."

"I won't be mad at you," I say, surprising even myself. "So, it'll be three against three. If this is really what you want, and you won't have any regrets, then go for it."

A smile spreads across her face.

"But you _should_ go home," I continue. "Lee's probably waiting on you. He's going to want to talk."

"I know," she says, getting off of the bed. I get up too and hug her tightly. "Thank you, Katie."

"Anytime." She Disapparates with a smile and I find myself hoping that she will be able to work everything out.

--

Nearly a week passes before I hear anything from Alicia.

Angelina, in desperate need of help dealing with her wedding plans, owled us both and demanded that we meet her at a dress boutique in Hogsmeade. Alicia in turn owled me and said that we needed to meet up beforehand.

We met in the Three Broomsticks and discussed her liaison with Lee in detail over Butterbeers. Since Alicia was adamant about not wanting a casual relationship, she agreed to try a real one. And according to her, Lee's happy about their decision although he isn't too fond of the idea of George finding out.

"So, what's the plan then?" I ask. Alicia just shrugs.

"Lee said I could tell anyone I wanted as long as it didn't get back to Fred or George. Actually, he said it might be best if Fred and George found out from someone other than us, but I don't really agree with that."

"Yeah…" I muse. "Well, what about Ange?"

"That's why I wanted to talk to you," she admits. "I want to tell her—I hate keeping things from her, especially with all of this shit going on in our world—but I don't know if it's a good idea. I'd hate to put her in a position where she has to pick between me and Fred."

"Well, did you ask Lee about it?"

"Yeah; he said whatever I wanted to do was fine with him."

"Well then, whatever you do is fine with me too."

"Thanks, Katie," she says sarcastically. "You're a whole lot of help."

We leave the Three Broomsticks a few minutes later and by the time we arrive at the dress store, Angelina's already inducing chaos as everyone is eager to help the Harpies's star Chaser. She brushes them all off politely.

"Ange!" Alicia cries excitedly, rushing towards her friend who she hasn't seen in weeks. Angelina is just as excited to see her, but quickly returns to business.

"There are just so many dresses here," she whines.

"Do you mind me asking why you're looking for a dress when you haven't picked a date or a location yet?" I inquire, being ever the practical one.

They look at me as if I've grown horns. "The dress is the most important part of a wedding," Angelina supplies knowledgeably. Of course it is. I watch patiently as Angelina tries on dress after dress, Alicia offering advice on each one. Every time I open my mouth, they end up laughing at my lack of fashion sense so I decide to just keep it closed.

Several hours later, the three of us step back into the streets without a dress. Well, that was a pointless waste of my life.

"You want to go get a drink at the Three Broomsticks?" Angelina asks. I look at Alicia guiltily.

"Well, actually, I have something I want to talk to you about," Alicia says and without asking either of us, she simply takes a seat on a nearby bench.

"Are you mental?" Angelina asks. "It's freezing out here, Alicia. Can't we talk in the Three Broomsticks?"

"I actually think it would be better to talk without people around," Alicia says. Feeling that I should support her in this, I take a seat on the bench also. Grudgingly, Angelina sits between us.

"You're crazy, girl. We're going to catch our deaths out here."

"Angelina, if I had something important to tell you but I asked you to keep it a secret from Fred, would you?" Angelina looks at her in shock. "I just don't want to go ahead and tell you and then put you in an uncomfortable situation later."

"No, I appreciate you asking," she says and then thinks about the question. "I wouldn't tell. You've been my friend far longer than Fred has." A smile breaks out over Alicia's face.

"I'm dating Lee!" she announces. Angelina stares at her with wide eyes. She turns around and looks at me.

"Did you know about this?" she asks, turning to me. I can't read the expression on her face, but I'm pretty sure she's not mad.

"Yeah," I laugh. "But only because you're attached to Fred who's attached to George who's—"

"—my ex-boyfriend," Alicia finishes. "Ange, say something, please."

"I-I don't know what to say. Are you happy?"

"I am. I'm so happy," the smile on her face makes it impossible not to believe her. Angelina face softens.

"Then I'm happy for you," Angelina says. "But, dear God. Alicia, do you know what this is going to do to George?"

"I can guess," she says sadly. "But I can't help the way I feel."

"Of course you can't," she says. "I'm not blaming you."

"So, you're not mad?" Alicia asks.

"Mad? Of course not! But I do think that it would be better if you went ahead and told George rather than waiting on him to find out later on." Alicia nods in understanding.

"Lee doesn't want him to know," she says.

"Well, okay then. I won't say anything to Fred."

"Thank you so much, Angelina."

"No, thank _you_!" she says. "I would have died if I found this out from someone else."

I just watch the whole exchange with a smirk on my face. This is definitely going to cause some complications down the road, but for right now it's nice to feel like we're back in school with our petty little problems. For the first time in months, the drama in my life doesn't center around You-Know-Who, but instead simple, teenage problems. And it feels pretty damn good.

--

Alicia and I Apparate to our old flat alongside Angelina. Alicia wants to catch up with Angelina, and I want to see Fred. When I don't find him in the kitchen, I immediately head to the back where I find him in Angelina's old bedroom, flipping through a magazine.

"Whatcha reading?" I ask, throwing myself onto the bed next to him.

"Katie!" he cries, wrapping me into a hug and throwing his magazine across the room. Maybe I _don't_ want to know what he was reading… "You know, I don't see you nearly enough anymore."

"I couldn't agree more," I answer, snuggling closer to him and resting my head on his shoulder. Although Oliver probably wouldn't approve of me being this close to another guy, I have no problem with it. I have no romantic feelings for Fred and being this close to him just comes naturally to me. Oliver's worries would be unfounded. Plus, he never has to know.

As if reading my mind, Fred laughs lightly to himself. "Do you think Angelina would mind if she walked in and saw us like this?" he asks.

"I don't know," I answer, never having really thought about it. "I think she knows us well enough to know that we don't mean anything by it."

"Yeah, well she's been awfully irritable lately."

"What do you mean?" I ask, turning to face him.

"I don't know. I don't think she likes living with me very much. She keeps badgering me about making wedding plans…I just can't think about that right now, you know. Death Eaters have been in the area all week and all she wants to talk about are color schemes."

"Fred, that's what happens when you ask a girl to marry you."

"Yeah, well I thought this was supposed to be fun."

"Fred…"

"No, Katie, I'm sorry. I'm fine. I'm just tired. I haven't slept in a while." Now that I take a better look at him, I find that his eyes do in fact have dark circles under them.

"Fred, are you okay?" I ask.

"I'm fine, dear. Just stressed." I just nod because I know that if anything's stressing him out this much, it probably has to do with something he can't tell me about. I disentangle myself from him.

"Well, I'll let you sleep then," I say, getting out of the bed. "But if you ever need to just get away, Oliver and I have an extra bed." To my surprise, Fred starts laughing. "What?"

"Nothing. It's just that you trust me so foolishly. I tell you that Angelina's annoying me and you offer me a bed. What if I'm the one causing the problem?" I shrug.

"Knowing you, you probably are the problem." Fred laughs.

"And knowing you, you're probably right," he says. I walk out of the room with a small wave and after saying goodbye to Angelina and Alicia, I Apparate home.

It's only after I'm standing in my crowded living room that I remember Oliver had said he was inviting his teammates over tonight.

"Hi," I mutter self-consciously when I notice that Oliver isn't in the room.

"Oh, thank God," Amanda says from her spot on our loveseat. "I thought I was going to be the only girl all night."

"Katie!" Ben cries, walking in from the kitchen with Oliver by his side. He drops the food he's holding onto the table and runs over to hug me tightly.

"I love you too, Ben," I say, patting him on the back.

"I heard that you miss me," he says, pulling away.

"And who told you that?" I laugh.

"It doesn't matter…you do miss me, right?"

"Of course I miss you," I laugh.

"Well, good."

"Hey," Oliver says, walking over to me and pulling me out of Ben's grip. "We're almost done here."

"No, it's fine," I say.

"You're home later than I expected you; I was starting to get worried," he says, pulling me onto the couch between him and Ben.

"Yeah, sorry. I got held up at Angelina's after we went dress shopping."

"Dress shopping?" Amanda asks, sitting strait up in her chair. "Like wedding dress shopping?" The six guys assembled groan audibly. "Oh, shut up."

"Amanda, you haven't talked about anything but dresses for months," Nolan says irritably. "And we're trying to finish this up so that we can all go home!"

"What _are_ you doing?" I ask.

"Working on some new plays," Kevin supplies, looking over his notes. I almost start laughing because even though Oliver was a maniacal coach, he never once made us waste a whole night looking over plays on paper.

"Stop smirking," Oliver whispers. I just roll my eyes.

"Are we almost done here? I've got a date," Jarrod says, getting up from his seat and walking into the kitchen to grab another Firewhiskey.

"You really should think about settling down," Amanda calls after him. "It's not as horrible as you seem to think it is."

"I highly doubt that," Jarrod mutters. Amanda rolls her eyes.

"So, Katie," she says, "where were you looking for dresses? I've looked everywhere and I haven't been able to find anything!"

"Oh, well—"

"Katie, don't answer her, please," Oliver says distractedly, looking over Kevin's notes. Amanda just glares at him.

"Seriously, though," she says, turning back to Jarrod and now addressing Nolan too. "What you two do isn't natural—it's unhealthy. You should pick one girl and stick with her. Switching girls every week isn't ethical. And it gives our team a bad name." All of the guys laugh lightly at that, without making eye contact with her.

"Oliver," she says fiercely, "tell them that relationships aren't a bad thing." Oliver looks at her as if she's crazy.

"What?" he asks.

"Relationships," she prompts. "You like being engaged to Katie, yes." Oh, I'd almost forgotten about that.

"Yes," Oliver laughs, draping his arm around my shoulders. I roll my eyes as he removes it a second later to point out a mistake on Kevin's play. Some things never change.

"Ben," Amanda tries again.

"What, dear?" Ben asks, turning to her.

"You used to be one of them," she accuses, pointing to Nolan and Jarrod. "What changed your mind?"

"Mallory," he says simply.

"Aw," Nolan mocks, making kissing noises.

"What?" Ben laughs. "The sex is better when they aren't thinking about whether you'll be there when they wake up in the morning." Nolan throws a pizza crust at him.

"The sex _is_ better," Kevin agrees, only looking up from his playbook briefly.

"Are you allowed to say that?" Jarrod asks. "You're married."

"You have kids," Ben agrees. Kevin doesn't comment.

"You guys are sick," Amanda says, leaning back in her seat as she realizes she's lost control of the conversation.

"What about you, Oliver?" Jarrod asks with a laugh. "Is the sex better?"

"Jarrod," Clark warns from the corner and it strikes me that I think this is the only time I've ever heard him talk.

Oliver looks up to glare at Jarrod briefly before looking back down at the book and pointing something out to Kevin. I think I'm the only one who notices the slight blush on his cheeks. Clark comes over and joins them over the book.

"Is there anymore Firewhiskey in the kitchen?" I ask softly. Oliver simply nods. I get up from my seat and head into the next room. When I open the refrigerator, I feel someone's gaze behind me. I turn around to find Clark there.

"I need one too," he says. I just nod and grab two drinks, handing one to him.

"So, do you guys meet every week to do this?" I ask.

"Most weeks," he answers. I just nod in understanding.

"No offense or anything," I say, "but you just seem so different than them. It's not a bad thing! You just don't really fit my persona of a Quidditch player." He laughs a bit at that.

"Well, thank you."

"You're very down-to-earth."

"Yeah, well, it's the guys like Nolan and Jarrod that all of the girl's are after," he mutters. From the first time I saw Clark, I felt a bit sorry for him and now I know why. He's dwarfed in comparison to his fellow Chasers and he doesn't even realize that he's just as good as they are. He's just humble enough not to boast about it.

"That's not true, you know," I say. "In fact, I think if you took a poll of all of the witches in England, most of them would rather date you than Nolan or Jarrod."

"And why's that?' he laughs.

"Because you care," I answer simply. He just looks at me curiously, but figuring we've been alone in the kitchen for a bit too long, I go join Oliver on the couch once more. One look around the room shows me that Amanda's fallen asleep in the chair and suddenly I find that I'm quite tired too.

Oliver pulls me close to him as he continues working and I rest my head on his shoulder. I don't know how long it took me to fall asleep, but it must not have been long. The last thing I remember is Nolan suggesting that they draw a mustache on Amanda and me wondering if Oliver would stop them if they tried to do the same to me.

--

**Wow, that was a long chapter. I'm officially on Christmas break, so I'm going to try to get updates out sooner. Also, I posted the Oliver POV fic, but I forgot to tell all of my readers here. So if you haven't read it yet, you should check it out.**

**Also, we're getting closer to the Final Battle. Probably about 3 chapters away. It makes me sad to even think about it because I've had that chapter brewing in my head for so long. I don't even know how I'm going to write a certain person's death because it just might break my heart all over again.**

**Anyway…review, please :) And Merry Christmas. **


	27. Caught

--

_Caught:_

February slowly fades into March and with the arrival of spring also comes an influx of Death Eater attacks. So many that Oliver has stopped trying to keep them from me. His Quidditch schedule is still erratic at best but rather than mope around the house because of his absence, I've taken to spending my days with Angelina and Mallory in turn.

However enjoyable their company is, I come home most days with a headache. It's not their fault, really—it's all of these damn weddings. Angelina complains about her lack of planning or preparation for hours and Mallory insists that I help her with hers. Although Angelina and Fred have been engaged longer, they still haven't set a date. Mallory, on the other hand, is determined to get married before anything horrible happens to her or Ben. It seems kind of morbid to me, but I can see where she's coming from. If she could have her way, she would drag Ben to the nearest chapel and elope tonight, but he wants to give her the wedding she deserves.

And that's how I find myself agreeing to be a bridesmaid for the third wedding since I graduated from Hogwarts. As they say: always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

Angelina's Quidditch schedule is a bit more relenting than Oliver's, but there are still days when she can't be at home. Those days I spend at the Weasley's shop—much to Fred's distain.

You-Know-Who's crusades are moving ever closer to home, so Fred and George are constantly talking about the deaths of people around them and what it means for the resistance. I always have a supply of questions for them and while I'm sure they annoy Fred to no end, I think he's more annoyed with the fact that Oliver refuses to answer them himself.

"Do you not get _The Prophet_, Katie?" he asks wildly after having to explain a Dementor attack that happened in Surrey the previous night.

"I do!"

"Don't be daft, Fred," George calls, placing several boxes on a shelf for display. "_The Prophet_ doesn't report this stuff. That's what _Potterwatch_ is for."

"Fine, then. Do you not listen to _Potterwatch_?" Fred asks with a smirk. "Lee would be most upset, Dear Katie."

"I listen to _Potterwatch_!" I argue. "Most of the time." Fred laughs.

"And does Oliver never talk about it?" George asks. I slowly shake my head and the twins both laugh.

While my time at the shop is enjoyable (and rather productive if I do say so myself), it is also depressing. Fred and George rarely talk about anything except the various attacks in our area and several times I've fallen asleep at night only to dream that I was a victim in one of their strange tales.

By far the most enjoyable days I have are when Angelina, Alicia, and I can all gather at our old flat for the day. Lee tags along sometimes and it's nice to be able to catch up with him. I'm also starting to get used to the sight of him and Alicia together. He surprisingly isn't shy in this relationship and I can't help but feel that the two of them are the perfect match. Lee has enough strength for both of them and it's obvious he could protect Alicia if the need arose.

Not that George couldn't, of course, but Lee can do it in a way that doesn't make Alicia feel inferior. Which I think is more important to her than she's willing to admit.

My nights are spent with Oliver…for the most part. Unfortunately, however, Nolan and Jarrod seem to have gotten it into their heads that they have an open invitation for dinner. I rarely cook and, thank God, Oliver doesn't expect me to, but I still feel weird having Oliver's teammates over and him feeding them takeaway. Of course, they don't _have_ to come over.

After about a week straight of having them over for dinner, I confront Oliver about it.

"Katie, honey, I'm sorry," he says with a laugh. "But I don't have a bloody clue what they're playing at. I'm not inviting them! But Nolan's hometown was attacked by You-Know-Who last week and he's a bit flustered. Since Jarrod's practically attached to him, I think they just like being around people for a few hours."

"Since when is it your job to take care of two fully grown men?"

"Since I joined Puddlemere," he jokes. "If it makes any difference, I think you're a good example for them. They've stopped sleeping around in any case." He kisses me on the forehead and I have no choice but to accept their presence for dinner.

I do, however, notice that Nolan is far jumpier now than he was when he was over a few weeks ago and I find myself feeling sorry for him. My sympathy dissipates quickly, however, as he never seems to have the decency to include me in the conversation. Unlike when he was dating Jaiden, however, Oliver does take notice of my discomfort and tries to include me. When that doesn't work, he shows his affection in other ways.

Some nights he'll place his hand lightly on my knee under the table and massage it gently, sending a thrill through my body. Other times, he'll take my hand in his and trace patterns lightly across my palm until I can't even focus on the conversation, I'm so distracted by what he's doing to me.

The upside is that by the time Nolan and Jarrod finally leave, we're both wound so tight that without fail he'll push me against the nearest wall and kiss me fiercely. In that respect, I can't really blame Nolan for visiting because Oliver makes sure I'm paid for it in full.

One weekend in early March, Angelina and Fred decide to invite everyone over for dinner. I accept without even thinking—it seems like it's been ages since we've all gotten together. As I'm getting dressed for the event, however, I begin to realize that this may not be as enjoyable as I'd originally expected. After all, George hasn't seen or spoken to Alicia since they broke up. Little does he know that she's moved on.

Grabbing my jacket off of Ben's old bed, I head over to Oliver's room and enter without knocking. Although we sleep in the same room, it still doesn't seem right for me to change in front of him. At least not if I'm not going to shag him afterwards. When I enter, however, it's only to find Oliver standing in front of me wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.

"Sorry," I say hastily, but I don't have the decency to turn away.

"It's fine," he laughs.

"I'll knock next time," I decide, voicing my opinion aloud.

"Wouldn't hurt," he says with a smirk. After slipping on a pair of jeans, he retires to his bathroom as I sit on our bed quietly, just thinking.

"What are we getting ourselves into, Oliver?" I ask. He peeks his head around the bathroom door to look me in the eyes, a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth.

"I was under the impression that we were only having dinner," he mumbles around the brush.

"We are," I say as he ducks back into the bathroom. "But I'm not sure this dinner's going to be very amiable if you know what I mean."

"Well, you've had to deal with dinners far worse than this one, I'm sure—I know Nolan and Jarrod aren't your first choice of dinner guests."

"Right you are," I mutter. "I'm just worried that George is going to find out about Alicia and Lee. I'm sure they can be inconspicuous if they want, but so far I haven't seen either of them display any evidence that would suggest they know how to keep a secret."

Oliver chuckles as he emerges from the bathroom. "Well, it'll be more entertaining for me if George does figure it out."

"Oliver!" I cry, but I can't help but laugh. It _would_ be fairly entertaining…

"Katie, don't worry about it," he says, slipping on an undershirt. "What happens happens and you're not going to be able to stop it one way or the other. Besides, Lee's a smart boy. If he has any common sense at all, he'll stay away from Alicia while people are around." I just nod my understanding as he finishes dressing, but the sense of foreboding doesn't leave.

By the time we arrive at my old flat, I'm a bundle of nerves. Call it intuition, but I know that this night is not going to end well. Oliver squeezes my shoulder reassuringly before knocking on the door.

"Just calm down, Katie. Everything is going to be fine." He pulls me into a hug just as Fred opens the door.

"Katie!" he cries, pulling me out of my boyfriend's arms and into his own.

"Hi, Fred," I murmur, feeling slightly uncomfortable. He pulls away, ushering me into the house and I can only imagine the glare he must be giving Oliver. Although they've cooled down around each other recently (probably only for my benefit), Fred's pride just won't allow him to see me with Oliver. Instead, I walk into the house with Fred's arm around my shoulder.

Angelina and George are conversing in the kitchen when we arrive, but they both look up as we enter the room. George throws a weary glance between Fred and Oliver, but doesn't comment. His own pride burned, Oliver pulls me away from Fred and back to his side, leaving me feeling much like a toy whose possession is disputed. Before Fred can argue, I wrap my arms tightly around Oliver's waist. Fred just laughs and reaches for his already half-empty bottle of Firewhiskey.

"So, you been doing okay, Ollie?" he asks. Oliver assures him that he has and Fred seems to find that exchange suitable. He turns back to me. "And you, Katie?"

"I'm doing fine, Fred," I say, glaring at him meaningfully. "Play nice," I mouth. He just nods distractedly as him and George begin talking about the latest Death Eater attack.

"I'd forgotten how much I hate being in the same room as him when he's with you," Oliver whispers into my ear. I turn to him with an apologetic smile, hoping for the first time that Alicia and Lee might divert Fred's attention a bit.

"So, where are the other two?" I ask Angelina, walking over to where she's preparing dinner.

"Lord only knows," she replies in a whisper. "I only hope they have the decency not to arrive together."

"Lee's got more common sense than that," Oliver supplies, coming over to us. Angelina looks at me curiously.

"Alicia told him—not me," I say in my own defense.

"Yeah, well, Lee's common sense seems to have dissipated a bit since him and Alicia got together," Angelina replies, addressing Oliver. "In fact, with all of the hints Lee's been dropping, I'm surprised Fred hasn't guessed what's going on yet. Of course, Fred _has_ always been a bit thick."

I just shrug. I don't completely agree with that statement, but I hardly think now would be the time to defend Fred's honor. He's perfectly capable of doing that on his own.

A knock sounds at the door and Fred gets up to answer it. To my surprise, when he comes back into the room, both Alicia _and_ Lee are behind him. Angelina rubs her temples in frustration muttering, "Merlin, help us all."

George looks up when they enter but immediately averts his gaze, not able to look at Alicia for longer than a few seconds. "That's everyone!" Fred announces happily as he settles back into his seat at the bar. "Is the food almost done, dear?"

"I'm working as fast as I can," Angelina mutters bitterly.

"I didn't say you weren't," Fred counters quickly. "It was just a simple question." The look on Angelina's face makes it clear that she's sick of his simple questions, but she refrains from saying anything.

"I'm going into the living room. Anyone want to join me?" George asks somberly. Fred eagerly follows his twin's retreating form.

"Go with them, Lee," Angelina hisses when he doesn't move. "Do you _want_ them to think something's going on?" Lee just shrugs, but leaves the room. When he's gone, Angelina chooses to let loose some of her anger. "Fred's being such an ass—don't you think? Did you hear the way he was talking to me?"

"And that's my cue to leave," Oliver mutters in my ear. I squeeze his hand gently as he heads into the next room with the other guys.

I'm barely listening as Angelina continues to rant about her fiancé, because I honestly think she's overreacting. This was always the problem with Fred and I being friends—it inevitably stuck me between him and Angelina.

When Angelina stopped to take a breath, Alicia took it upon her self to ascertain how Lee was the perfect boyfriend and Angelina should encourage Fred to follow his example. Their conversation leaves me ready to vomit.

This is why I don't have that many girlfriends. There's some block in my brain that doesn't allow me to understand them.

I'm about to go join the guys in the living room when Angelina announces that the food's done.

"Can you go get those insufferable idiots in the next room, Katie?" Angelina asks distractedly as she ladles food onto seven different plates.

I walk into the room and as soon as I enter it, the conversation stops. Huh…wonder what they were talking about? To my surprise, I find Oliver and Fred leaning across the table and glaring at each other. And if looks could kill, Fred would be dead.

"Food," I announce simply, gesturing to the kitchen.

"Okay, Kates, just a minute," Fred says, waving his hand as if to shoo me away. Maybe Angelina has a point after all. Rude little bastard.

"I'm not going back in there without you," I say stubbornly, taking the seat next to Oliver. George and Lee just smirk at the three of us, but they take their leave nonetheless. Oliver throws his arm around me and leans back on the couch. "What are you two talking about?"

"You," Fred says smugly.

"Quidditch," Oliver says a half second too late.

"You were talking about _me_?" I cry outraged. Knowing Fred, that can never be good.

"Why do you believe _him_?" Oliver asks. "Maybe I was the one telling the truth."

"Because even you wouldn't get this riled up over Quidditch," I point out. Oliver just shrugs, unwilling to relent. We sit in silence. "You're not going to tell me what you're arguing about, are you?" I ask, with little hope.

"Nope," they reply at the same time. You know, if they'd put their differences aside, I think they'd find that they're more alike than they realize.

I angrily get up from my seat and storm into the kitchen. Oliver rushes after me, but I brush his hand off. I'm not in the mood tonight. I can almost feel him roll his eyes at my snub. Fred just laughs and brushes past us.

Oliver and I take the two empty seats at the table and even though I pretend to be mad at him, I'm really not. I'm actually thankful that he's sitting next to me and not Ange. Although I do find myself sandwiched in between Fred and Oliver which is a bit awkward. Angelina seems to have positioned herself as far away from Fred as possible.

What is going on between them?

Although the food is good, dinner passes in near silence. Several times, someone tries to start a conversation, but it never really catches. George refuses to talk to anyone, at least while Alicia's in the room, but Alicia doesn't seem to notice. In fact, if anyone's having a productive conversation it's her and Lee. I now know what Angelina meant when she said that the boy had lost his common sense. You'd have to be blind not to guess what's going on. Fortunately, it seems that the twins are, in fact, blind.

Of course, Angelina and Fred aren't really helping matters. They alternate between giving each other the silent treatment and yelling at each other across the table. And when Fred's not yelling, he's leaning around me to smirk at Oliver on my other side.

Now, what's going on between _them_?

The tension in the room builds until I just can't stand it. Reaching underneath the table, I grab Oliver's hand and squeeze tightly. I look up at him and mouth, "I'm sorry", although I don't know what exactly I'm apologizing for. And right there in front of everyone, he kisses me lightly on the lips. I smile at him and turn back to my food, never releasing his hand.

After dinner, we retire to the living room. I, personally, am just waiting until it's a decent hour to leave without seeming rude. I love my friends, but this is just too much to deal with right now. I curl up on the couch next to Oliver and let him drape his arm around me. Normally at things like this he'll just let me doze off and he'll carry on the conversation for both of us. I have a feeling that's not going to happen tonight, however.

We've been sitting there with Angelina and Fred carrying the bulk of the conversation for close to a quarter of an hour when I notice Alicia staring at me curiously. She's sitting next to Lee (a little close in my opinion), and she's observing me with a distant expression on her face.

Sadly, it's a look I recognize. It's the same look I would give girls at Hogwarts when they were sitting with their boyfriends by the common room fire: a little bit of annoyance, but mainly jealousy and curiosity. I wanted more than anything to be able to have someone to hold me like they did. Little did I know that one day I would be the object of someone elses curious stares.

It must be even worse for Alicia. She has a guy, she just can't admit it.

Almost without realizing that she's going it, Alicia begins to scoot closer to Lee. I shake my head a fraction of an inch in warning, but if she sees me she doesn't make any move to correct herself. I just hope that George hasn't noticed. Thankfully, he seems to be distracted by his brother's argument with Angelina.

Alicia excuses herself a few minutes later to get some tea from the kitchen. No one takes much notice of her absence. In fact, I don't even realize she's still gone until Lee excuses himself also. Angelina and I exchange wary glances.

They wouldn't do anything _here_, right? With Fred and George in the next room? Lee's just looking for food.

"You know, I want some tea too," Fred says, standing up from his seat. My heart immediately begins racing and I'm sure my eyes are widening.

"No you don't," Angelina says hastily.

"I don't?" Fred asks, his anger flashing across his face. "Are you monitoring my diet now too, babe?" Angelina's own face hardens in anger, but Fred ignores her and heads for the kitchen. She rushes forward and grabs his arm to stop him. "What the hell is your bloody problem?" he cries and I can tell that every ounce of frustration that he's felt in the past few weeks is about to come pouring out.

"I don't have a problem. I just—"

"Do you have any idea how much I don't care? All you want to talk about anymore is wedding plans! Have you ever thought that maybe that's not what I want to hear when people I care about are dying every day? You're driving me crazy!"

"Well, I'm sorry," Angelina says, tears of frustration beaming in her eyes. "Maybe you shouldn't have proposed to me if this was the reaction I was going to get!"

"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have." His blunt statement feels like a knife in my heart and I'm sure Angelina is suffering far worse than I am. Willing myself to look anywhere but at the two of them, I search for George's reaction to his brother's statement. To my surprise, George is no longer in his seat.

"Shit!" I mutter and leap up from the couch in order to try and stop George from walking in on something he's not going to want to see.

"What in the name of Merlin—?" I hear him cry. I'm too late.

Rushing forth, I find him pale white and staring at Alicia and Lee's intertwined forms. They quickly pull apart but not before Fred, who followed me in here, sees them also. Angelina and Oliver come to a stop behind him.

None of us say anything, but instead stare at George. Rather than say a word, he just walks out of the room. Fred, however, has never been able to hold his temper as well as his twin.

"Is this what you were trying to hide?" he yells, turning to Angelina.

"Fred," I say, trying to stop him. If he has any decency, he won't badger Angelina anymore tonight. This, at least, is not her fault.

"No, Katie, shut up!" he says. Although I know his anger is not directed at me, I can't help but feel the sting of his words.

"So what if it was?" Angelina retorts. "I'm allowed to have my secrets."

"Well then, congratulations. You have your secrets. And I see that your friends are more important to you than I'll ever be. Did you honestly think that I wouldn't be mad that you kept this from me?"

"Fred!" she cries angrily.

"No, Ange. I think I've made myself perfectly clear. This isn't working and now is not the time to try harder. I'll move back in with my brothers tonight. Wouldn't want to get in the way of your secrets, now would I?"

Tears well in Angelina's eyes, but she doesn't open her mouth to retort. She crosses her arms around her chest as if to keep herself together and simply whispers, "Fine. If that's the way you want it, then get out."

Fred nods and walks out of the room. I look back and forth between the two of them, but realize that there's little I can say to rectify this. Alicia and Lee are still standing only inches from each other, both aware that it would be better if they just kept their mouths shut. Feeling helpless, I rush into the living room after Fred.

"Fred!" I cry, a little more harshly than I'd anticipated. I feel Oliver following after me.

"What?!" he yells back, spinning around to face me. I don't know what to say, so I just stay silent. He stares into my eyes and I can't help but see the sadness behind them. This isn't the way he wanted to do this, but he can't take it back now. I want more than anything to run forward and hug him, but Oliver's presence stops me. To my surprise, I find tears running down my cheeks.

"Fred!" I hear George yell from the living room. I look towards his voice because it's so filled with fear that it cuts into me like a knife. Fred runs into the living room quickly and Oliver and I follow him.

Charlie's head floats in the fireplace and George is kneeling on the hearth. In spite of the heat, his face is paper white.

"What's wrong?" Fred asks immediately.

"It's Ron," George says.

"He's gotten into some kind of trouble at Malfoy Manor," Charlie says. "I don't know all of the details, but we're not safe. You-Know-Who knows that we've been lying this whole time and he's not going to hesitate in killing us all."

"Is Ron okay?" Fred asks, and I hear his voice break.

"He's alive," Charlie says. "At Bill's. But we've got to get out of here. Dad said to Apparate to the Burrow and we'll fly to Auntie Muriel's from there. Ginny got home last night, thank God. As much as I hate to say it, our idiot little brother actually had some pretty good timing."

"I don't have any clothes," George says stupidly.

"I'll grab some," Charlie says hastily. "But don't linger. And Fred, I wouldn't let Angelina stay in that house. There going to come looking for you." Fred nods mutely and I look up to find Oliver rushing out of the room.

"The Burrow," Charlie repeats. "If you're not here in five minutes, I'm coming to get you." His face disappears from the fire. Fred and George just stand there not saying anything. It's only then that I notice Fred's shaking. Without thinking, I rush forward to hug him tightly.

"Fred," I choke out. He just rubs my back gently.

"Everything's going to be fine," he says, although I'm not sure he believes it himself. I pull out of his embrace as I hear Oliver re-enter the room. He throws a bag at Fred and Fred catches it over my head.

"I filled it with your clothes," Oliver says simply and Fred nods.

"You'll take care of her, right?" Fred asks Oliver softly, motioning to me. Angelina, Alicia, and Lee come in from the next room to see what all of the commotion is about.

"I'll take care of her," he replies. Fred simply nods.

"What's going on?" Lee asks, looking between the four of us.

"We're going into hiding," George says simply. Lee blanches, but doesn't say a word. He knows that it would have to be bad for the twins to pack their bags. And before any of us can comprehend his actions, Lee rushes forward and envelopes George in a hug. I wipe the tears from my eyes as George returns it whole-heartedly.

All animosities aside, everyone says their goodbyes but Oliver's quick to point out that Death Eaters are probably heading for the flat as we speak. George gives one last wave before Disapparating. Fred starts to do the same, but gives me one last meaningful look before he goes.

I feel my heart break because I don't know if I'll ever see him again.

"Okay," Oliver says, immediately taking control. "Alicia, Lee, go back to France. You'll be safe there. Ange, you better come home with me and Katie." She simply nods, but tears are falling fast and hard from her eyes.

I don't know how we managed to get her to pack a bag, but we did. All three of us make it back to Oliver's safely. Angelina immediately collapses onto the couch in tears. It only takes me a few seconds more to collapse into Oliver's arms.

--

**A/N: So, while I was doing some research for this chapter, I figured out that JKRowling's timeline is a bit off. According to the books, Harry's capture at Malfoy Manor happens on approximately March 7****th****, while Ginny was on Easter vacation. Well, Easter in 1998 wasn't until April 12****th****, so that doesn't exactly fit. Whatever. I made this work with the books, even if it's not right.**

**Review, please :)**


	28. Fall for You

--

_Fall for You:_

The days pass in slow agony until we finally get word from Fred and George. And when we do, the worry is replaced with frustration.

Nearly a week after the twins were forced to make their untimely departure, I'm awoken to a tawny owl tapping on my bedside window. Shaking the sleep from my body, I sit up and make my way over wondering who in the world could be sending an owl this early in the morning. I open the window and the owl flies in with a gentle hoot. I look over to find that Oliver is still sleeping peacefully and in order not to wake him, I carry the owl with me out of the room.

I'm surprised when I open my door to find Angelina walking out of Ben's old room. She's been staying there since she was forced to vacate her own flat. She looks up startled upon seeing my face and I notice that she is clutching a letter close to her chest.

"You got one too?" she asks, pointing to the owl.

"Is it from Fred and George?" I ask anxiously. She simple scowls.

"Read it for yourself. But don't expect much." She disappears into the kitchen and I untie the letter from the owl's leg. He immediately takes off towards the nearest window and I quickly let him out before turning to the note in my hand. Why did it take them so long to write? I've been worried out of my mind. I quickly open the envelope and remove the letter, only to find that it's not a letter I'm holding after all. It's a flyer.

I flip it over to see if I've missed anything but find the back blank. I take a closer look at the front and have an overwhelming desire to kill Fred Weasley. The flyer is for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes and the title is proclaiming a new mail order branch of business.

"You-Know-Who can't keep us down," I mutter, reading the flyer to myself. "Are they mental?" With the flyer does, however, come a brief sense of relief. They're safe, if nothing else, and I suppose this is the only way they could let us know without giving away too much information. I collapse to the ground outside of my bedroom door, surprising even myself because I wasn't expecting my legs to give out like that.

I've just been so fucking scared 24-7 for nearly a week. I haven't eaten much or slept more than three hours a night. Oliver keeps telling me that I am going to give myself an anxiety attack and now I think I believe him. I calm myself down and, still clutching the flyer as if it's my lifeline to Fred, I head to the kitchen where I'm sure Angelina is.

Sure enough, I enter the room to find a pot of tea boiling on the stove top and Angelina rubbing her temples as she sits at the table.

"I think the tea's done," I say to announce my presence. She only looks up at me sadly and I quickly go to get the tea off of the stove and pour two cups. I grab one and take the other to Angelina.

"Why would they do that?" she asks miserably. "All that fucking advertisement does is tell us that they're alive. I want more information than that! I _need_ to talk to him."

"Ange, even if he sent you a letter he wouldn't be able to tell you where he was. Just be glad we got _this_," I say, brandishing the flyer for affect.

"You don't understand, Katie," she groans. "I have no clue if he was serious when he said he wanted to break up. I mean, I think he was. Things have been rocky between us for ages, but I would really love to know for sure." I just nod because I really don't know what else I can say. This isn't an ideal situation for any of us, but I imagine that it is a bit worse for Angelina. Everything just happened so fast; I wouldn't know what to think of things either.

"I'm sorry, Ange," I say, wrapping my arms around her tightly. My touch causes wracking sobs to cover her body, but I hold her as she cries because sometimes you just need someone hold you.

--

Somehow, Angelina and I make our way back to her room and we fall asleep next to each other. The sound of the door opening several hours later wakes me and I look up sleepily to see Oliver standing in the doorway. I quickly untangle myself from the covers and make my way out of the room with him.

"Is everything okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, everything's fine," I say, reaching into the pocket of my pajamas to show him the mail that had come this morning. He takes the flyer from me and unfolds it slowly before reading it.

"Well, at least they're okay," he comments dryly.

"Yeah," I say, not really wanting to dwell on the subject.

"Well, are _you_ okay?' he asks and although it's nice of him to ask, I can see through his chivalry. Oliver's been very tense every time I mention Fred lately. I don't know what it is, but I'm not going to mention him unless I have to.

"I'm fine," I say, brushing off how much it hurts to voice that lie. I hate lying to Oliver, but in cases like this, I think it's probably better for the both of us.

The two of us have just sat down for breakfast when the doorbell rings. Oliver gets up grudgingly and I hear him let the person in. Before I've even taken a bite of my cereal, Mallory comes rushing into the room.

"Katie!" she cries excitedly. Oliver follows her into the room with a smirk on his face. "I'm getting married!"

"Um, I know, honey. You've been engaged for over a month now…"

"No, I'm _really_ getting married! We've officially set a date and I am going to become Ben's wife on April 10th," she says smugly.

"Well, I'm happy for you," I laugh because I can see just how happy she is.

"Yeah, I'm a bit happy for me too. But that means that my wedding's less than a month away. Do you know how much stuff I still have to do?"

"Poor Ben," I hear Oliver mutter as he leaves the room. All of this talk of weddings doesn't sit well with him. I think he's afraid that I'll start getting ideas.

Mallory stays over for a while, talking about dresses and caterers, but I don't understand half of her girlish chatter and I think she realizes that because she finally dismisses herself with a promise to come back next week so I can go with her and some of the other bridesmaids to find the perfect dresses. I simply nod; I've given up fighting with eager brides because there's no winning.

All of the talk of weddings (and weddings that weren't, in Angelina's case) get me to thinking about Leanne's wedding in August. I haven't seen Leanne in so long. I owl her from time to time and I know that she's happy, but I've barely seen her since she announced to me that she's pregnant. She's due in June, though, which I think is the most beautiful month of the year.

"When's the last time you saw Cullen?" I ask, walking into the bedroom where Oliver's relaxing and reading some book about Quidditch strategy. I sit on the bed next to him and he looks up at me, trying to remember.

"I went over there one day after practice about three weeks ago," he finally says. "Why?"

"Well, I just haven't seen Leanne in a while and I was thinking that we could invite them over for dinner or something."

"We could," he shrugs, "if they weren't out of town."

"What do you mean?" I ask as he sets his book down on the bedside table.

"I mean that Leanne and Cullen cleared out of their house about a week ago. They've got Death Eaters and everything else guarding Hogsmeade and it was making Leanne uncomfortable. I think they're staying with her parents until the baby comes. Did you not know that?" I push my hair out of my eyes in frustration and shake my head.

"Oh, I just figured she would have told you."

"Yeah, well we really haven't talked all that much lately," I mutter, trying to keep the anger out of my voice but failing miserably. Oliver rubs my hand comfortingly. It's not even Leanne that I'm mad at; it's You-Know-Who because he's the one that keeps disrupting my life by uprooting my friends. When is this ever going to get any better?

"Katie, are you sure you're okay?" he asks for the second time today and this time I can hear the validity in his question.

"I'm not sure of anything anymore," I answer in all honesty. Without waiting for him to reply, I pick myself up off of the bed and head into the living room. The bad thing about sharing a room with Oliver is that there is no sanctuary I can run to when I just want to be alone. He doesn't follow me out of the room, however, and I change my destination, heading instead to the bathroom. Once there, I turn all of the taps on in the sink and just let myself cry where no one can hear me.

I don't know what's been wrong with me lately. I guess it's just the girl in me finally coming out, but I can barely control my tears any more. I've never thought of myself as weak, but maybe I'm more fragile than I even know. The littlest things set me off, especially now that Fred's gone.

Maybe it is normal, though. I mean, I don't cry nearly as much as Alicia used to when she was worrying about George. And Angelina's been crying a lot lately too. Maybe it's just one of those uncontrollable things. I do have to say that I feel a lot better after I've cried. Oliver told me once that that's because you can't begin to heal until you've done your fair share of crying.

I do feel sorry for Oliver, though. He may be an amazing guy, but I don't think there's any sane guy out there that knows how to deal with tears. That's why I try not to cry in front of him.

And as often happens, I sit there crying for several minutes before I even take the time to figure out what I'm crying about. I turn off the sink and instead turn on the taps to the bath tub and begin filling it up with warm water. What _am_ I crying about?

The fact that Leanne didn't tell me where she was going bothers me, of course, but I don't think I would cry over that. If anything, I would just get angry and I really don't have the energy to waste on anger right now. I fill the bathtub almost to the brim and then undress and submerge myself under the water, cleaning off the tears that stain my face.

What has me so bothered?

The answer, honestly, should have come to me way before it did. I just feel guilty even thinking these thoughts because I don't know what to do with them.

I'm crying because of Fred Weasley.

And what a fucking bastard that boy is. I mean, sending me a flyer? Really? I've been worried sick about him for nearly a week and all that he cares to send me in reassurance is a 10% off coupon for Extendable Ears? What the hell is wrong with that boy?

I realize that I should take my own advice to Angelina earlier and understand that even if he wrote an actual letter to me, he wouldn't be able to give me any details. But quite frankly, I don't give a damn. I need more of him to sustain me than a fucking flyer.

I submerge my head under the water again for even thinking those thoughts. Don't get me wrong, my thoughts for Fred are purely platonic, but I do love him. And I'm starting to realize that I care more for him than any other person in my life right now. Including Oliver. And I don't know what that means.

Is it possible to care for a friend more than the person you're in a relationship with? Maybe so, but what if the friend is of the opposite sex?

This must be why Oliver's been so touchy about the subject of Fred lately. With all of my emotions, he probably thinks I'm in love with the boy. And quite frankly, I don't really understand Fred and my relationship at the moment.

He's not the kind of guy that I would ever date, or even feel anything romantically at all for. But he is the one person on this planet that I'm not sure I could live without.

And then it hits me. Suddenly, I become aware of what Fred's presence in my life means to me.

My relationship with my Dad was never really the same after my mum's death. I love him, yes. He's the best dad any girl could ever ask for, but I've never felt as close to him as I should. I was at Hogwarts for seven years, only seeing him on holidays, and somehow our relationship just sort of fizzled down to nothing. There is no friendship there like I see between the Weasley's and their parents. He's just the man whose blood runs in my veins. And although I love him, there's not much more to it than that.

During my Hogwarts days, Fred was the one who was _always_ there. Through thick and thin, never leaving my side, and giving me advice on all of the little things in life. He's the one that taught me how to defend myself. He's the one that was there every time I got sick, making sure I got the treatment I needed. He's the one that taught me to fly on his old Cleansweep. He's the one that kicked Jimmy Perkinson's ass when he felt me up in the hallway during second year. He's the one that gave me the sex talk (sad, but true). He's the one that took me out for my seventeenth birthday and got me piss drunk. He's the one that cares enough for me to tell me what I'm doing is dangerous or wrong. He's the one that knows me better than anyone else on this planet.

I heard somewhere that if a girl's dad dies or is absent in her life, she often chooses to place her affection elsewhere. Most of the time it's done by flitting from guy to guy, but I guess I just got lucky. The guy that I chose to give my heart to is the one guy that's actually stood beside me in everything that I've ever done.

He's like an older brother. He's like my father-figure, even though that sounds weird to say. He's…Fred. He's just Fred.

--

After I take my bath, I feel much better and much more determined. I pick up the flyer once more and reread it, trying to figure out how in the world to get in touch with Fred. Even if he can't write back, I want to talk to him.

The instructions for placing an owl order are fairly uncomplicated. Actually, they're not complicated at all. You just sent the order like you would any other letter and the owl will find Fred and George. I'm sure that there are protective spells so that no one dangerous would be able to get to them, but I'm still surprised at its simplicity. Why doesn't everyone just go into hiding? It seems like it would be easier.

Instead of writing out an order, I write a letter. I pour all of my heart into that letter and, I'm embarrassed to admit, it takes me nearly a whole day to get the wording write. I tell Fred everything that's occurred to me since he's been gone and just how much he means to me, because I honestly don't think I would be able to stand it if he died without knowing just how much I appreciate everything he's done for me since I met him. Oliver and Angelina both traverse through the house, ignoring me for the most part. My guess would be that both of them know what I'm doing, but they never comment.

I sign off the letter, telling Fred to give my best to his whole family and owl it using Angelina's owl Peaches. Oliver's dog, Bludger, hasn't taken very well to Angelina's owl and as I'm tying the letter to her leg, Bludger is barking hysterically at the animal. This is why I don't have pets.

Once Peaches is gone, I feel much better. I snuggle up with Oliver on the couch and although I can tell he's a bit more tense than usual, he doesn't object to my touch.

"I love you, Oliver," I say, feeling that I need to assure him of that fact. I do love Oliver, and I want to be with him more than anything, but I don't know how this is going to work because I've realized now that I simply can not live without Fred in my life. And if Oliver is uncomfortable with that, I don't know what I'd do. Because I can't choose between the two best things in my life—I can't!

--

Nearly another week passes and Mallory slowly starts to get more and more hysterical about her wedding. I hope to God I never get like that over a wedding. I do feel sorry about my prospective Maid of Honor, however. She's going to have to help me with _everything_.

Oliver relaxes more around me now, and I think he knows that he can trust me. I could be wrong, though. He may just be more comfortable around me now because Fred never answered my letter. Which I didn't expect him to, anyway. Nonetheless, I'm glad things are starting to get back to normal.

I'm getting ready for bed one night when suddenly the mobile phone Ben gave me starts ringing. The noise always startles me because I'm not used to people calling me here.

"Hello?" I ask warily, and I feel Oliver looking over at me from his spot on the bed.

"Katie, it's Alicia," she says and my heart immediately begins to clench. I always feel like this mobile phone is simply for emergencies, even though I know it's not.

"Oh, hey Alicia," I say and Oliver turns back to the Quidditch book that he's once again reading.

"Listen, I can't tell you anything, but can you come over, please? I need to show you something."

"Is everything okay?" I ask, already gathering my purse together. Oliver looks up from his book once again, worry etched onto his face.

"No, everything's fine—I promise. Just come over, please." I nod and then realize that she can't see me.

"I'm on my way," I say.

"Just Apparate. You know where it is, right?"

"Yeah, bye."

"Bye."

"What's going on?" Oliver immediately asks.

"I don't know," I shrug. "But she said nothing's wrong. I'm just going to Apparate over there and see what she wants. I'll be home soon, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," he says getting off of the bed and hugging me. "Just be careful, please. Is Lee going to be there?" He gets uncomfortable when I leave the house unless he knows that there's going to be somewhere there capable of protecting me.

"I don't think so," I shrug. "Isn't there a Potterwatch episode tonight? Alicia's brother will probably be there, though." He just nods and kisses my forehead before I Disapparate.

The first thing I see when I arrive at Alicia's house is her sitting on the couch reading a magazine. My gaze is distracted, however, by the relatively large group of people standing at the back of the room. They don't even look up at the sound of my arrival and I can only assume it's because they've gotten immune to the sound of people coming and going.

Lee's standing in the middle of the group, asking questions and trying to get information out of them and that immediately tips me off to the fact that I've stumbled straight into the middle of the makings of Potterwatch.

I slowly scan the group of people and find Remus Lupin, my old Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, talking to a large, dark-skinned man who looks as if he's been living outside for a few days…or weeks. On Lee's other side are the last two people I was expecting to see when I Apparated here. Part of me doesn't even believe what I'm seeing, but you can't mistake that red hair.

Fred and George Weasley are standing only feet away from me.

"Katie!" Alicia cries, finally spotting me. The five men turn to look at me also and I begin to feel slightly uncomfortable. To be honest, I feel like I'm about to lose the ability to stand, my knees feel so weak.

"Hey," I say to all assembled and I can feel a blush rising to my cheeks. Before I can get too embarrassed, however, Fred crosses the room with a huge smirk plastered on his face. All other thoughts leave my mind at the sight of him. He stops in front of me.

"I got your letter," he whispers. Although I'm not embarrassed, per se, I feel my cheeks heat up. I don't regret what I said in that letter, though.

"Well, good," I say and before I can think about it, I wrap my arms around his neck tightly. His arms fold around my waist and he pulls me closer to him. I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I never wanted him to let me go. We finally separate and I see Alicia grinning at me from around her magazine.

"He told me to call you," she explains.

"Yeah, well I needed to see her," Fred defends himself.

"Oi, Fred! Are you going on air or not?" George calls across the room.

"Nah!" Fred answers, never turning his gaze away from me. "I'm going to catch up with Katie. You're going to have to do this one without me." George only shrugs as Lee begins getting his papers together. Although I'm rather curious as to how Lee makes this radio show work, I want to talk to Fred more. "Come on," he says, pulling me into the back of the house.

He takes me into an empty bedroom and I sit down on the bed, still trying to wrap my head around the fact that Fred's standing in front of me.

"What are you doing here?" I finally ask.

"Potterwatch," he says slowly, as if I'm dense.

"Okay, shut up," I argue. "I know that, but how come you can come here and you can't even write us a letter explaining where you are?" He shrugs.

"We took the necessary precautions getting here," he explains, "and Lee still needs help with the show so it gives us an excuse to get out of Muriel's basement every once and a while."

"Muriel?" I ask.

"Our Auntie Muriel. We're using her house as our 'hideout', I guess you could say. She's been ever so gracious enough to let us do the mail orders out of her basement. Well, okay, gracious isn't the right word."

"You scared me to death," I whisper. His gaze grows serious and he takes a seat next to me, placing his arm around my shoulder.

"I know. And I'm sorry. But I was stuck, you know? I couldn't contact you until we knew the house was safe—believe me, I tried. If it makes you feel any better, I was worried sick about you, too."

"Me? Why me? The Death Eaters aren't after _me_!"

"But they could be. If they think it'll get me out of hiding, they'll do whatever it takes. And trust me, if they threatened _your_ life I wouldn't think twice about mine. I love you, Katie. And I don't say that nearly often enough."

"I love you, too," I mutter, leaning closer to him. "Fred? You know that I'm not the only one worried about you, right? Angelina is so confused…" He rubs his forehead and I can tell that he's starting to get stressed out.

"I know," he says. He removes his arm from my shoulder and reaches into his jacket to pull out a folded up note. "This is for her. Give it to her, please. It explains everything." I just nod and stick the piece of paper into my own jacket. "And I have one for Oliver too, if you don't mind." I take the second proffered note, this time a little wary of what might be written in it. He offers no further explanation.

"Were you serious when you broke up with Angelina?" I ask. "You didn't really seem like you were open to second chances." He groans audibly and lies back onto the bed.

"I was serious," he finally says, his hands covering his face.

"Do you mind if I ask why?" I say slowly. "I don't like to believe that love just goes away like that." He removes his hands from his face and his eyes meet mine. He pats the bed next to him lightly and I lay down beside him.

"I don't really know how to explain it," he starts. "Angelina and I got together and I liked her, yes. I grew to love her, yes. But I'm not sure that that relationship was ever what I wanted. I think it was just all I was willing to work for. All of the time that I was dating Ange, I never thought about another girl. I never needed to because I already had one. I think in my mind I was satisfied just because I had her. It didn't matter that my feelings weren't as deep as they could be."

"But you asked her to marry you—"

"I'm a guy, Katie. I don't understand my own emotions. We'd been dating for so long that I figured marriage was the next step. It was only after I'd asked her that I started to realize exactly what marriage entailed. And I just couldn't see myself spending the rest of my life with her. In my head, I don't think our relationship was one that I ever expected to last. Plus, I started to realize that I had an unhealthy obsession with someone else."

"I thought you said that you never even thought about another girl while you were with Ange."

"Well, that was a lie. Katie, I think about _you_ all of the time. Not romantically, mind you, but…God, Kates, I don't think you can even understand what I feel for you. You did get close in that letter, though. I just started thinking about you and Angelina one day and I realized something. And this is going to sound horrible, so try not to hate me for it, but it's the truth. If it came down to it and I could save either you or Angelina from You-Know-Who, it would be you." He turns to face me and I see the truth behind what he's saying.

I close my eyes to think.

"Katie," he continues. "You love Oliver, right?"

"Yeah, I do," I say without opening my eyes.

"Then don't make the same mistake I did. You and I have been with each other for so long, that what I'm about to ask you may sound extremely strange, but I need you to do me a favor. The relationship that we have, Katie, is the most important thing in my life. But I'm starting to realize that this connection that I have with you is unhealthy for the both of us—romantically at least. I'm not saying our relationship has to change. In fact, I think it would be impossible for us to do so. But I want more than anything for you to become as close to Oliver as you are to me."

I open my eyes in surprise. "You don't even like Oliver!" I counter.

"You know that's not true," he says. "I don't trust him with such precious cargo as you, but I like him. And I just want you to be happy—he'll make you happy."

I once again have to think about what he's just said. The thought of being as close to Oliver as I am to Fred scares me a little bit. Why would Oliver accept me like Fred does? But then again, why wouldn't he? If I opened myself up to him, I'm sure our relationship would grow stronger. And as the thought begins to form in my head, it starts to fascinate me. Suddenly, I find myself wanting to know every little thing about Oliver. It seems odd that I've spend so much time with him, but I still feel like I know so little. I've blocked aspects of my life off to him and I assume that he's done the same.

I laugh lightly to myself as I think things through.

"What?" Fred asks, laughing with me.

"I've kept so much from him," I say. "Why? There's no reason for me to not tell him these things. Things that you know about me already."

"It's because you've had me to talk with about those things. And those are all things that I'm positive Oliver would want to know about you too. I haven't been willing to share you, Katie. But I'm ready now. Because I know that as long as I hold on to you as tightly as I have been, you're never going to have the life that you deserve."

"But what about you?" I ask. "You deserve a life, too. When the time comes, you have to take your own advice. I don't want to come in the way of you and your happiness again, Fred."

"Deal," he laughs.

"Deal," I agree. He pulls me close and hugs me tightly once more. I feel tears flow into my eyes, but I don't bother to stop them. Because Fred's the one guy that I've always felt comfortable crying in front of and I now realize that isn't necessarily a good thing.

Because Oliver's given me so much and if I'm not willing to give it back 100%, then maybe this won't work out after all.

--

**Review, please :)**


	29. Yet Another Wedding

--

_Yet Another Wedding:_

Mallory and Ben's wedding arrived much sooner than I expected it would. Quite frankly, days and weeks are beginning to slip together. I haven't seen either of the Weasley twins since the last episode of Potterwatch aired, but I've found it surprisingly easy to live without Fred. I miss him, of course, but I know that he's safe. Plus, I have Oliver to take his place.

I don't really know what our relationship has developed into—I've never been really good at deciphering subtle changes—but Angelina keeps commenting on how close we've grown. Oliver always retorts with some smart comment about how we could grow much closer if she wasn't still living in our flat. He's joking, of course, and Angelina knows it.

We_ have_ gotten closer though. I told him about my conversation with Fred as soon as I got home that night and I also told him about how I thought it was unfair that I allow Fred into every aspect of my life, but not Oliver. Upon my announcement that I was going to try harder to be the girlfriend he deserved, Oliver looked thoroughly stunned. I don't think that he ever expected me to be honest enough with myself to admit that.

"I love you," he said simply and then kissed me more passionately than I can ever remember him kissing me in my life.

I think that his problem with our relationship has been Fred all along. Something about me admitting my feelings to Oliver allowed him to relax and finally understand that my love for Fred is never going to be anything but platonic.

But back to the matter at hand…

I'm quickly growing to despise weddings.

Bill and Fleur's was nice (at least until the ministry invaded), but Leanne's was no party. I mean, it was a nice ceremony but my memory of her wedding day centers around Oliver catching Charlie and I snogging in a back room. Maybe this one will be better.

As I sit with the rest of the bridal party and help Mallory get ready for her big day, I have my doubts. I don't know any of these girls except for Mallory and I feel out of place. A knock sounds on the door and the girls scream, shouting things like "Don't come in!" and "You can't see the bride before the wedding!" I roll my eyes. If someone wouldn't let me see my groom before our wedding, I'd have to hex them into oblivion.

"It's only the best man," I hear Oliver groan from the other side of the door. "Katie, let me in, please." I get up from my seat and unlock the door.

"Hey," I greet him, a broad grin plastered on my face.

"I figured you might need saving," he whispers, looking behind me into the room of giggling girls.

"You figured right," I agree. "Mallory, I have to go with Oliver for a few minutes."

"Okay, but hurry back," she says. "I can't go on without you."

"They can't go on without me either," Oliver laughs. "I'll have her back in time." He pulls me out of the room gently and I immediately hug him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" I cheer.

"Don't thank me," he laughs as we separate. "Ben's the one who said you might be a little overwhelmed in there."

"Well, they keep talking about Prada and Versace, so I'm a little confused as to what's been going on."

"As you should be. Come on, I'll take you to see Ben." He leads me down the hall and we enter a small room where Ben, Nolan, and Jarrod are all laughing, a bottle of firewhiskey in each of their hands.

"You know, you might actually want to remember tonight," I comment, taking the bottle out of Ben's hands as I take a seat.

"I'm just using it to calm the nerves," he says.

"So you _are_ nervous?" Oliver says, seeming pleased that Ben finally admitted it.

"Okay, that's not what I said," Ben retorts.

"Well, it's close enough," Jarrod laughs.

"Yeah, mate, maybe married life isn't for you after all," Nolan says, taking a swig of his drink.

"Don't listen to them," Oliver and I say at the same time. We look at each other with wide eyes.

"Let's never do that again," I propose.

"Definitely not," Oliver agrees, taking a seat next to me and placing his arm around my shoulder.

"Is Mallory nervous, Katie?" Ben asks seriously.

"I don't know," I admit. "She's talking about clothing and your honeymoon in Maui." Ben groans.

"It's natural to be nervous, right?" he asks.

"No," Nolan and Jarrod answer.

"Yes, it is," Oliver corrects. "It's a new stage in your life. If you weren't nervous, _then_ we'd have something to worry about."

"But _she's_ obviously not nervous," Ben counters. "What does that mean?"

"It means she's a girl who's been dreaming about this day for her whole life," Nolan says. "Girls want to be married. Guys, on the other hand, find it unnatural to be tied to one woman for the rest of their existence. You're going against the natural order of things, hence the nervousness."

"Where is Clark when you need him?" Oliver says exasperated. "He's on my side with the whole having a stable-relationship thing."

"Yes, you've all been brainwashed," Jarrod says. "Don't you remember when you, Ben, Kevin, Nolan, and I could all go out and get a girl before the night was over? _That_ is the natural order of things."

"There comes a time in your life when you have to leave the partying days behind," Ben says confidently, straightening his tie. "And thank you for bringing that up. You just reminded me of why I enjoy being with Mallory in the first place."

I look up at Oliver curiously. I never expected him to remain celibate while we were broken up, but having his escapades with women broadcast so bluntly startles me. He just smiles down at me and I can tell that he doesn't understand why I'm staring at him so oddly. It's not that I'm mad, but I _am_ curious.

"Oliver was never any fun, though," Nolan counters, ignoring Ben completely. Actually, I think he's ignoring me too. Either that or he's forgotten I'm here. "Almost worse than Clark when it came to picking women up at bars."

"Hey!" Oliver laughs.

"It's true!" Jarrod agrees. "I'd totally forgotten about that. When you joined the team, you were still dating that bird at Hogwarts. What was her name again?"

"Katie," I supply.

"No, that's not…Wait a minute, that _is_ it! Oliver, you've dated two girls named Katie? What is it, like a fetish or something?" Oliver rubs his forehead in frustration as Ben laughs on the other side of the room.

"It's the same Katie," Oliver says. Jarrod looks back and forth between the two of us quickly.

"No way!"

"Do you not pay attention to anything I say?" Oliver laughs humorlessly.

"Not when it comes to relationships. The sex part I'll listen to, but anything else just bores me."

"Of course it does," Oliver says. "Ben, what time is it?" Ben looks down at his watch.

"Ceremony starts in ten minutes. Katie, you might want to go back to Mallory before she starts panicking."

"Yeah, okay," I agree, picking myself up off of the sofa and heading out the door. When I enter the girl's room, I'm immediately overwhelmed by all of their chatter at once. They're trying to straighten Mallory's train and fix her hair, buckle her shoes and offer advice for the wedding night. I take a seat once more.

One of the ushers comes into the room five minutes later and tells us that we need to line up. The other two bridesmaids walk out of the room, but Mallory stops me.

"Katie, am I doing the right thing?" she asks quietly, and I can see the nervousness in her eyes.

"You love him, Mallory," I say.

"And I'm not rushing into this, right? I feel like if this was meant to be, I wouldn't be so nervous. I can barely breathe!"

"Well if it makes you feel any better, Ben's just as nervous as you are." She doesn't even question how I know that, but takes it as a reassurance.

"I love him," she whispers. "I don't know what I would do without him."

"Well then it's a good thing you won't have to do without him," I say, pulling her veil down over her eyes.

"Thank you, Katie," she says, hugging me. We join the rest of the bridal party and as the music plays, we walk down the aisle. I meet Oliver's gaze and focus on him rather then the people assembled so that I don't trip.

Two weddings, zero stumbles down the aisle. Now that's what I call a miracle. Oliver smirks at me as I take my place because I'm sure he knows what I'm so pleased about. I roll my eyes at him as the minister begins reciting the vows.

I never take my eyes off of Oliver as the wedding proceeds, and he never looks away from me either. For the first time in my life, I allow myself to think about what it would be like if Oliver and I really did get married one day.

I was never one of those girls who dreamt about her wedding as a child. I never went around pretending I was a princess in need of her Prince Charming. Actually, if I'm being perfectly honest, I still thought guys had cooties by the time I started Hogwarts. I've had my fair share of crushes over the years, but I never fell in love until I met Oliver.

And something tells me that he's going to be the only guy I ever love. I just can't imagine feeling this way about anyone else. He's the other half of me. He actually makes me _want_ to be a better person. I don't know if it's working, but he does make me want to try.

As I watch Mallory and Ben kiss for the first time as a married couple, I can't stop the thought that rises forefront to my mind: I _want_ to marry Oliver Wood.

--

I walk into the reception hall alone. I quickly find Angelina, however, and join her at a table near the back of the room. Our group certainly has gotten smaller over the past few months. With Fred, George, and Lee in hiding and Alicia in France, Angelina and I are the only ones left. And Oliver, of course, but he's more of an honorary member.

"Where's the best man?" Angelina asks as I take a seat.

"No clue," I answer. "He said something about wine and then took off. I've learned not to question him." Angelina laughs and I take a few seconds to take in the party. Food is circling the room on trays, but Mallory and Ben are already on the dance floor.

"I think I'm going to leave in a few minutes," Angelina muses. "You don't think Mallory will notice, do you?"

"Probably not," I answer. "But why don't you stay? There are plenty of single guys here, Ange. Maybe you should just go flirt a little."

"I don't know how to flirt," she says. "Plus, I just don't think I'm ready for a new guy yet."

"If you say so," I shrug. Suddenly, I feel a presence behind me and I turn to find Oliver standing there, three glasses of champagne in his hands.

"Drinks anyone?" he asks. Angelina and I gladly reach up to take ours. "They look happy, don't they?" he continues, looking across the room at Ben and Mallory.

"Yeah, they do," Angelina sighs. Oliver takes my hand under the table as Nolan walks over.

"Ollie, I was just talking to Clark and he said that—hey, you're Angelina Johnson!" Angelina does a double take at Nolan. "You're easily the best Chaser that the Harpies have had in nearly a decade."

"And you're Nolan Brinkley. Quite possibly the most mediocre Chaser _Puddlemere's _had in a decade," she smirks. Nolan looks taken aback by the comment, but quickly recovers.

"Oh, we are _so_ kicking your ass this year!" I can't help but laugh as Nolan takes a seat at our table.

"What were you saying about Clark?" Oliver asks.

"It's not important," Nolan says, brushing Oliver's question off and turning back to Angelina.

"Now I'm curious," Oliver whispers in my ear. I watch in fascination as Nolan begins flirting with Angelina and, although she said she didn't know how, she is flirting right back. Within minutes, they are on the dance floor.

"Angelina wouldn't agree to sleep with him, would she?" Oliver asks, worry etched onto his face.

"I don't think so," I muse, watching them. Nolan's hands are dangerously low on her back.

"Poor Nolan. I think he's finally met his match," Oliver comments.

"I think you might be right," I laugh as I watch Angelina place Nolan's hand at a more appropriate place on her body.

"So, do _you _want to dance?" Oliver asks. I scrunch my nose in disgust. "I'll take that as a no."

"There's really no reason for me to embarrass myself tonight."

"You know, we danced at the Puddlemere Charity Ball and that wasn't bad." I smile, recalling that night.

"It was a one time thing."

"Well, are you at least having fun?"

"Like I've said before, weddings aren't really my thing. But I guess as far as they go, this is nice," I say.

"You might as well get used to weddings, Katie. We're at that age where all of our friends are going to start getting married."

"Yes, I realize that, but I seem to have bad experiences at weddings."

"Like what?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"Well, at Bill and Fleur's the Ministry showed up and I ended up staying there all day for questioning."

"What about Leanne and Cullen's? You seemed to be having a good time there when I saw you."

"Yes, and you saw me at what is probably the most embarrassing moment in my life. Hence the reason _that_ wedding was horrible," I say.

"Maybe I can make this wedding enjoyable for you," he replies.

"You're welcome to try," I smirk. The next thing I know, he's dragging me out of the reception hall and into a room near the back of the building. He pushes me up against the wall gently and stares down at me for a few seconds, our bodies pressed together.

"You're so beautiful, Katie," he whispers. I stand on my tiptoes and close the distance between our lips. He kisses me back ardently.

He uses his tongue to massage my lower lip gently, before nipping it lightly with his teeth. A moan of pleasure escapes my mouth. He begins placing kisses down my jaw as I catch my breath and his hands move up to cup my breasts.

It's very reminiscent of my tête-à-tête with Charlie a few months earlier, but it feels so different this time. This time I'm not doing anything because I want to assert my sexual prowess, but because I love the man I'm doing it with. As his lips meet mine again, I become ever aware of just how far he's letting himself go. I've made out with Oliver for hours at a time, but never when we were both as wound up as we are now.

Something tells me that unless I stop him, he's not going to stop.

But do I want to stop him?

"Oliver?" I say, pushing him off of me slightly.

"Hm?" he asks, bending down to kiss my neck once more.

"Someone's going to come looking for us eventually." He pulls back with a groan.

"You're right," he says, pulling away from me. "You're absolutely right."

"Sorry," I mutter.

"It's fine," he laughs. "We should probably go check on Angelina anyway." We walk back into the reception hall and it only takes a minute for us to find Nolan and Angelina. They're standing in the shadows of the back wall and snogging wildly.

"Oh God," I whisper. "When I told her to find a guy, I definitely didn't mean Nolan." Oliver laughs.

"She can take care of herself," he says. He eventually convinces me to dance and I do enjoy myself a bit. It isn't long, however, before Mallory declares that it's time for her to throw the bouquet. My initial instinct is to step back several feet—I've seen how vicious girls can get during this little ritual—but the next thing I know, Angelina appears out of nowhere and thrusts us right into the thick of things.

Mallory looks over her shoulder once before tossing the flowers into the air. Now let me just say that I'm not a Chaser for nothing. When I see something flying towards my head, I'm going to catch it even if it isn't something I particularly want to catch. And that's how I end up with Mallory's bouquet in my hand and several single girls sending me death glares.

I turn to smile at Oliver sheepishly and he just laughs, Ben standing at his side. According to tradition, it looks like I'm going to be the next one getting married. Merlin, I feel sorry for every unmarried girl in the room; this could take years.

--

**I know it's been a while and I'm sorry. On another note, this is the last of the happy-go-lucky chapters for a while. The next chapter starts the Final Battle and we all know it's pretty much downhill from there.**

**I think the final battle's going to be about 2 or 3 chapters. Then there's going to be a funeral chapter, of course. Basically, I don't want to live in that place for too long so I'm going to try to update quickly. I think the last thing my friends want is for me to be pissed off for a month because I'm being forced to re-live the Final Battle.**

**Reviews are loved and cherished, I promise.**


	30. Reunion

**Okay guys, I am typing this chapter on my brand new laptop! I'm totally loving it and this will actually make it easier for me to update since I can stay on the computer for all hours of the night without people complaining that I type too loudly. Which has, sadly, happened before. This chapter would have been out about three days ago, but fanfiction was not letting me upload.**

**This chapter starts the final battle sequence and I just want you to know that these scenes have been brewing in my mind since I began Love and Quidditch nearly two years ago. I'm going to try to make these chapters as compatible with the books as I can and I've tried to not write anything that couldn't be supported by canon.**

**These chapters are going to be the hardest to write for me just because of all of the death and destruction in them. I hope they live up to your expectations. And without further ado, I give you the next installment of Love and War.**

_Reunion:_

Music was playing lightly in the background as Oliver and I continued eating our dinner. I don't understand why he insists on taking me out on dates like this. The whole concept of someone else paying for my meal kind of makes me feel uncomfortable but, truth be told, I probably couldn't pay for this meal anyway.

"So are you enjoying yourself?" Oliver asks, tasking my hand across the table.

"Surprisingly, I am," I admit. "But that may just be because this crème brulee is amazing."

"Surpassed by the dessert once again," he laughs. "I've got to stop ordering you those."

"The day you stop ordering me desserts will be the day I stop agreeing to come to fancy French restaurants with you," I warn. "The waiters are too narcissistic otherwise."

"And they say that food is the way to a _man's_ heart. They've obviously never met you." I can't refrain from sticking my tongue out at him. He laughs at my childish antics as several people throw me disdainful glances. They probably would have kicked us out by now if it weren't for the fact that Oliver Wood is a world renowned Quidditch star. I guess fame does come with its perks.

The check arrives several minutes later and Oliver pays graciously. He takes me by the hand as we walk out into the night. The smells of summer pervade the air and the heat feels comforting against my skin. I draw closer to Oliver as we begin to roam the streets.

"I love you, Katie," he whispers into my ear as we begin heading home. I smile at his words and warmth that has nothing to do with the weather engulfs me. How is it even possible that one boy can make me feel this magnificent?

"I love you, too," I answer.

"You look beautiful tonight," he continues. I glance down at the white sundress that Angelina loaned me and I can't help but agree. Maybe there is something to wearing dresses. I should probably buy some of my own.

"Thanks," I mutter. "You know, I'm starting to think that you only take me to nice restaurants so that I have to dress up."

"You caught me," he laughs. "My diabolical plan has now been ruined." I roll my eyes at him, but lean up to place a gentle kiss on his lips nonetheless.

"So, are we going home now?" I ask quietly.

"Only if you want to," he answers. "Angelina's going to be there…"

"Now you're just being rude. Angelina makes a fine roommate."

"That's not what I'm complaining about. I finally get Ben out of the house so that it can be just me and you, and then Angelina moves in. I'm never going to get you to myself, am I?"

"You have me to yourself right now," I reply.

"I guess that is true. Hey, come here." He grabs my hand in his and leads me across the street to an empty park. He takes a seat on the ground and pulls me down into his arms.

"What are you doing?" I ask, laughing as I snuggle into his lap.

"Taking advantage of the time I have with you." He holds me in his arms and I take a few seconds to glance up at the moon shining in the sky. We stay like that for several minutes before I crawl out of his lap and lay down on the ground, my long hair fanning out around me. He lies down also and I move to his side.

"Katie?" he asks.

"Yeah?" I mutter.

"I don't want you to take what I'm about to say the wrong way, but I have an important question to ask you."

"What is it?" I ask, tensing slightly at the nervousness that he's exhibiting.

"And I need you to keep in mind that I wasn't planning on doing this right now, but it just feels right."

"Oliver, what is it? You know you can tell me anything."

"I know," he laughs, "Trust me, I know. Katie, I love you more than anything in this world. And, quite frankly, I know from experience that I can not live without you in my life. I know that we're already technically engaged and that we have to get married by next December anyway as long as the current Ministry stands, but I don't want to be _technically_ anything. I want to _really_ be engaged to you." He lifts his body off of the ground and leans down over me. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you, Katie Bell. Will you marry me?"

I look up at him, stunned. Oliver Wood did not just ask for my hand in marriage! Did he? Oh my God! _The _Oliver Wood wants to marry me! And here I am, the last person in the world that I ever thought would end up getting married. This can't be happening!

"I would give you a ring," Oliver continues, trying to fill the silence. "But you're already wearing it." I look down at the ring I've been wearing for months—the ring that has always been meant for me—and looking at it, I find my answer.

"Of course I'll marry you, Oliver," I say, lifting myself off of the ground.

"Seriously?" he asks, and I can physically see him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Yes. I love you so much." He smiles down at me and I can't help but kiss him. I am engaged to Oliver Wood!

For real this time!

As we head home a little later, I feel like I'm floating ten feet off of the ground. I hold Oliver close to me and I never even dream of letting go. Somehow I think I always knew that it would come down to this one day. And quite frankly, I'm glad that he picked now. With all of the unhappiness in the world, it's about time that I had something to look forward to.

When we arrive at the flat, we find that Angelina isn't there after all. She did leave a note, however, saying that she was heading over to Alicia's house for a few minutes and that she would be back a little later.

"Well, that's lucky, don't you think?" Oliver jokes, brandishing the note as he enters the bedroom where I am undressing. "And that was even luckier," he laughs, glancing at my body. "Sorry," he apologizes, a little too late, turning around to give me my privacy as I slip on my jeans.

"It's fine," I answer, walking over to him and placing my hands on his waist, letting him know that he can turn around. He turns to look down at me with a smirk. "You're going to have to get used to it if we're going to be living together for the rest of our lives." He actually smiles at that comment.

"I like the sound of that. The rest of our lives."

"It does have a nice ring to it," I say. He kisses my forehead and then walks over to his own closet where he pulls out jeans and a Quidditch shirt and begins undressing. I'm not as shy around his bare body as he is around mine.

He only gets his jeans on before I grow tired of just sitting on the bed. I walk over to him and run my fingers down his bare back. He turns to me in surprise and I smirk as I place a chaste kiss on his lips. He returns the kiss and wraps his arms around my waist possessively.

He guides me to the wall and as I feel my back press against it, I also feel an uncomfortable warmth on the seat of my jeans. I brush it off at first, but the heat continues to get worse.

"Ow," I mutter, pulling away from Oliver and reaching into the back pocket of my pants.

"What's wrong?" he asks worriedly. I just shrug, but as soon as my hand closes around the object in my pocket, I know that something is, in fact, wrong.

I pull the charmed galleon out of my pocket—the same charmed galleon that Dumbledore's Army had used nearly two years ago to communicate with each other. Fred warned me when I graduated to keep it close at hand and, to this day, I try not to go anywhere without it. I move it closer to my eyes and examine the inscription: "Harry's back. We're fighting."

Four words, plain and simple. Four words that could change the entire course of my life.

"What is it?" Oliver asks wildly, glancing back and forth between what I'm sure is my rapidly paling face and the piece of gold I hold in my hands.

"Harry's at Hogwarts. They're going to fight."

"What? How do you know that? Who's 'they'?"

"Dumbledore's Army," I answer helplessly, holding up the coin as if it'll offer further explanation. "What if this is it, Oliver? What if this is the end? We have to go!"

"Go where? Katie, you aren't making any sense!"

I look at the coin once more, looking for further instructions. I find them on the face of the coin.

"It says to Apparate to the Hog's Head. Oliver, we've got to go!"

"Hold on just a minute," he says angrily, grabbing my hand to stop me from walking away. "We're not going anywhere until you explain to me what the hell you're going on about. What is Dumbledore's Army?"

"You must remember! I wrote you about it when I was in sixth year. It's this organization that Harry founded to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts during Umbridge's year at Hogwarts. I must have told you about it?"

"Katie, we were broken up during your sixth year."

"Oh. Well, it's this organization that Harry founded to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts—"

"Yeah, honey, I got that. Now, what the hell does that coin have to do with anything?"

"We used them to communicate with each other," I answer, handing him the coin to explain.

"But how can you possibly know this is legitimate? What if it's a trap and You-Know-Who is just summoning you all together to slaughter you?"

"You can only send a message from the master coin, which is currently with Neville Longbottom. This is real, Oliver. And I'm going, whether you come with me or not."

"Of course I'm coming. Do you really think I would stay at home while you're about to fight for our freedom from You-Know-Who?"

A sudden pride burns inside of me for the man standing in front of me. "I love you, Oliver," I say, rushing to his side. He hugs me tightly.

"Just let me get my shirt and shoes," he mutters and although he's trying to hide it, I can see the worry etched onto his face. Suddenly, a resounding crack rings through the flat. I jump, my nerves already on edge.

"Hello? Is anyone home?" I hear Angelina's voice call.

"Back here!" I cry and Angelina cautiously peeks her head around the door.

"Okay," she says. "Well, I'll just leave you two alone."

"Ange, wait!" I cry. "Did you not feel your coin burn? Harry's at Hogwarts—we're going to fight."

She reaches into her pocket, but quickly withdraws her hand. "I'm going to kill Fred Weasley," she mutters. "He took that coin from me months ago and told me that if I was ever needed he'd get in touch with me! That filthy little liar!"

"And you just let him take it?" I ask incredulously. Even I know better than to just let Fred have one of my most precious belongings.

"He said that he'd lost his!"

"And you believed that?" Oliver asks, emerging from his closet.

"I was dating him. I trusted that he wasn't being a complete ass."

"Well, see, that was your mistake," Oliver shrugs. "Now, if we're going to do this, I think that we probably need to just go. I'd hate to be late for the rebellion."

"He's right," Angelina mutters. "But should I go tell Alicia?" I look up at Oliver worriedly.

"I don't know, Angelina," he says softly. "She hasn't been emotionally stable lately, has she? I don't think we're going to want to get her involved in this unless we're sure that she can handle it."

Angelina looks down at the ground sadly. "I guess you're right. Let's just go."

"Apparate to the Hog's Head," I instruct. Within seconds, all three of us have Disapparated into the unknown.

The first thing that comes to my senses when I arrive is the sound of yelling. "All of these filthy kids! When am I ever going to be able to sleep?" I open my eyes to see the dingy bar and take in the owner, walking towards us angrily. The smell of farm animals fills my nostrils, but I choose not to comment. He seems mad enough already. "I'm going to get that Longbottom kid. I never agreed to this! If any of those Death Eaters catch me allowing fugitives into Hogwarts, what do you think is going to happen to me? Nothing good—that's what."

"We're sorry to bother you, Sir," Oliver interrupts as politely as possible. "But this is where we were told to come."

"Tunnel's above the mantelpiece. Help yourself," he says, gesturing above the fireplace. He then disappears into the next room.

"Thanks for the help," I mutter humorlessly.

"Come on," Oliver says, leading Angelina and me towards a table. We both climb onto it and then onto the mantelpiece, where we can crawl into the dark tunnel beyond. Oliver climbs in after me and we begin walking, our path only illuminated by the faint glow of candles.

"How long is this tunnel?" Angelina asks from ahead of me.

"It's going to have to be pretty long if it takes us to the castle," Oliver mutters. "Just keep walking." We walk in silence, all of us too worried to say much. It takes us nearly ten minutes before we come to the other end of the passage. Angelina pushes open the small door at the bottom of a flight of steps and light greets us.

The three of us climb out of the passage and we are immediately greeted by familiar faces. There are people here that I haven't seen in months. Neville Longbottom, Seamus Finnigan, Dean Thomas, Lavender Brown, and other members of Dumbledore's Army are scattered around the room, but the ones that catch my eye are the three causing the most attention. Fred, George, and Lee are entertaining the crowd with imitations of the Hog's Head bartender and cracking jokes as if nothing is wrong. They look up upon us entering and I swear I see Fred blanch.

"What are you three doing here?" he asks.

"Well we _are_ in D.A.," Angelina retorts. "What ever happened to your promise to contact me if anything big ever occurred? Hm?"

"Okay, Angelina, now is really not the best time."

"Of course it's not. There's never a good time to talk with you, is there?" Fred smirks at her.

"I was only doing it to protect you," he mutters shyly.

"And that's the only reason I'm not cursing you into oblivion," she replies. Fred hugs her and I can't help but feel that they work better just as friends. Fred pulls away from her and turns to me and Oliver.

"I thought you two would be here sooner," he says. "What took you so long?"

"There was some unnecessary explanation that had to take place first," I respond. "Oliver wasn't a member of D.A."

"Ah, he wasn't, was he?" Fred laughs. "Well, you're in for a surprise m' boy."

"Where's Harry?" Oliver asks.

"Looking for some lost crown," Ginny Weasley says aggravated, walking over to join the conversation. "He's been gone for quite a while, though."

"Keep your pretty little head on," Fred replies. "I can pretty much guarantee you that he's not off snogging Luna Lovegood. If you had, however, allowed him to go with Cho Chang like he'd wanted to, he might have been back by now. We all know Luna gets distracted too easily."

"Oh, don't even pull that card on me," Ginny retorts angrily. "Luna's just as smart as Cho Chang. Plus, she knows how to avoid the Carrows. Harry's just as well off with her."

"I should have just left you at Aunt Muriel's," Fred says. "Mum's going to kill me." Ginny just smiles up at him.

"I'd have loved to see you try to keep me at Auntie Muriel's. I could kick your ass in a duel." And I have no doubt that she could.

"Hey, Katie," Lee says, walking over. "Where's Alicia? You didn't tell her about this did you?"

The door to the passageway opens once more and three people walk through: Professor Lupin, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Alicia Spinnet.

"LEE JORDAN!" Alicia cries angrily. Every person and the room turns to stare at the couple.

"Damn," Lee mutters, gulping visibly.

"You lied to me! 'I'm just going to spend the night with Fred and George', you said. 'I'll see you tomorrow'. Liar! Did you honestly think that I wouldn't figure put where the hell you were?"

"Alicia, I—"

"No—no excuses. I'm sick of people treating me like I'm some fragile doll. What was I supposed to do if you never came back? I was a member of D.A. too! I have just as much right to be here as you do!"

"Alicia, I—"

The passage swings open once more and Bill, Fleur, Arthur, and Molly Weasley all walk through.

"FRED! GEORGE!" Mrs. Weasley cries angrily. The group turns their attention to the twins and Alicia and Lee forget about their own argument. "How dare you drag my daughter here! What in the name of Merlin were you two thinking? She's much too young and now you've tainted her mind with false hope."

"Mum," Fred, George, and Ginny all groan at the same time.

"No, I'm not hearing any of it. Ginny, you are to climb back through that passageway right now and wait with Aberforth until this thing's over. Now, where is Ron?"

"Shh!" Michael Corner suddenly cries from the other side of the room. "Someone's coming in. It must be Harry and Luna."

We all turn our attention to the staircase at the back of the room and, sure enough, Harry soon emerges, slipping a little on the last few steps as he catches sight of all of us gathered together.

"Harry, what's happening?" Professor Lupin asks, making his way to the stairs in order to greet the young man.

"Voldemort's on his way," Harry answers without hesitation. "They're barricading the school—Snape's run for it—What are you doing here? How did you know?"

"We sent messages to the rest of Dumbledore's Army," Fred supplies from across the room. "You couldn't expect everyone to miss the fun, Harry, and the D.A. let the Order of the Phoenix know, and it all kind of snowballed."

"What first, Harry?" George asks. "What's going on?"

"They're evacuating the younger kids and everyone's meeting in the Great Hall to get organized," Harry replies. "We're fighting."

Those two simple words have my heart racing like it's never raced before. This is it. Either we overthrow the reign of You-Know-Who tonight or I'm probably not going to be alive tomorrow. Oliver looks down at me reassuringly and I squeeze his hand for comfort. People cheer around us and I can't help but join in.

There's a mad dash for the stairway, but I let Oliver go on without me.

"Are you coming?" I ask Fred.

"Not yet," he mutters worriedly, looking over at his Mum. "I think I've got to get yelled at first. I'll see you down there." I just nod and rush past a still shocked Harry into the school I once called home. I quickly find Oliver and we head through the chaos together.

I don't know what lies ahead or what this night is going to bring, but Oliver's by my side and I have a promise for the future in him.

This is the beginning of the end, one way or the other, and I'm going to be there to see it through.

--

**So this is obviously only the tip of the iceberg. The next chapter will start the actual fighting.**

**Review, please.**

**:)**


	31. The Battle Begins

**It's been a while and I'm sorry. Honestly, I am. But for some unknown reason I agreed to be a Diamond Girl and that, alas, filled up the remainder of my free time. But baseball season's almost over (for my school anyway), so you can expect more updates. Not to mention spring break's coming up! And I, sadly, have no plans.**

**Disclaimer: I am not now, nor will I ever be, the Great JKRowling.**

**--**

_The Battle Begins:_

The Great Hall was chaotic to say the least. Oliver and I were sitting at the Gryffindor table, just like old times, while the students filtered in wearing dressing gowns. The majority of them look terrified, but some of the older students are trying to mask their fear under looks of calm confidence. It isn't working very well, and I have to stop and wonder whether my own face is betraying fear.

Judging by the reassuring looks Oliver is giving me, it probably is.

Fred ambles in among a group of Ravenclaws and scans the Gryffindor table until his eyes find me; he makes his way over. The rest of his family follows close behind him and I am surprised to see Percy Weasley among their number, his mother's hand holding his own tightly.

Fred takes the seat next to me in silence and George sits on the opposite side of the table, immediately whispering plans to Lee.

"What's going on?" I ask quietly. Fred shrugs, glancing over the people assembled in the Great Hall.

"Where the bloody hell is Ron?" he mutters, knowing very well that I have very little chance of answering that question. "He and Hermione said that they'd only be gone for a minute. What are they doing? Snogging? Because now is definitely not the time."

"Okay, you need to calm down," I say. He takes a deep breath and nods. His lack of words bothers me more than his anger. Fred Weasley is nervous.

"Are you all right?" Oliver asks me, squeezing my hand gently.

"I'm fine," I assure him.

A few minutes later, Professor McGonagall raises her hand for silence and the entire hall stops speaking, including George who is still trying to ask Lee about some protective spells the twins may have missed.

"As most of you are probably already aware," she starts, "Hogwarts is about to come under attack by the forces of You-Know-Who." Many of the students start to voice their concerns over this matter, but Professor McGonagall silences them once again. "Do not fret, we have come up with a safe evacuation plan. The evacuation will be overseen by Mr. Filch and Madam Pomfrey. Prefects, when I give the word, you will organize your House and take your charges, in an orderly fashion, to the evacuation point that I discussed with you earlier."

"And what if want to stay and fight?" Ernie Macmillan shouts, standing up at the Hufflepuff table. Several older students applaud his valor, but the frown in McGonagall's brow is not lost on me. These children are under her charge and if any of their lives are taken, it goes on her conscience.

"If you are of age, you may stay," she finally answers. I notice Harry traveling along the tables, searching for someone. Whispers follow him and, not for the first time, I wonder how he is able to live his life. I probably would have killed myself by now. "We have already placed protection around the castle, but it is unlikely to hold for very long unless we reinforce it. I must ask you, therefore, to move quickly and calmly, and do as your prefects—"

McGonagall is interrupted by a voice that I had hoped never to hear. You-Know-Who's words ring across the Great Hall, projected from Merlin knows where, and my blood runs cold. This all seems very real to me now.

"I know that you are preparing to fight." Some of the younger students scream and to be perfectly honest, I have to stifle one in my own throat. Oliver clutches my hand tighter. "Your efforts are futile. You cannot fight me. I do not want to kill you. I have great respect for the teachers of Hogwarts. I do not want to spill magical blood.

"Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed." Almost unwittingly, my eyes travel to Harry, only a few feet away from me. What did the poor boy do to deserve this? "Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched. Give me Harry Potter, and you will be rewarded. You have until midnight."

I look down at the watch on Oliver's wrist. It's nearly eleven thirty now; that's not nearly enough time to prepare for an attack!

A lone figure stands up at the Slytherin table and I vaguely recognize her from my time at Hogwarts, but I can't recall her name. "But he's there!" she creams. "Potter's _there_! Someone grab him!"

Without even thinking, all of us Gryffindors rise, wands drawn. If there's one person that can get us out of this situation, it's Harry, and there is no way that You-Know-Who is getting his hands on him. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws follow our lead until there is a wall of bodies between Harry and the Slytherins.

"Thank you, Miss Parkinson," Professor McGonagall says from the front of the room. "You will leave the Hall first with Mr. Filch. If the rest of your House could follow."

I sit and watch as the Slytherins troup out, followed by the majority of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. When the Gryffindor table is dismissed, however, more than half of the students remain and the Professors are forced to sort through those that are underage. It takes two Professors to drag Colin Creevey out of the Hall and he is still screaming bloody murder as they pull him away. You'd think he was being led off to his execution, the way he is acting.

Harry takes a seat next to the Weasleys, only a few seats over from me.

"Where are Ron and Hermione?" I hear him ask. Fred groans next to me, obviously aggravated at the absence of his brother.

"Haven't you found—?"Mr. Weasley starts, but is interrupted by a large dark-skinned man that I recognize from that episode of _Potterwatch _at Alicia's. Shacklebolt, that's his name.

"We've only got half an hour until midnight, so we need to act fast! A battle plan has been agreed between the teachers of Hogwarts and the Order of the Phoenix. Professors Flitwick, Sprout, and McGonagall are going to take groups of fighters up to the three highest towers—Ravenclaw, Astronomy, and Gryffindor—where they'll have a good overview, excellent positions from which to work spells. Meanwhile Remus, Arthur, and I will take groups into the grounds. We'll need someone to organize defense of the entrances of the passageways into the school—"

"Sounds like a job for us," Fred calls across the room, gesturing to himself and George. Kingsley nods.

"All right, leaders up here and we'll divide up the troops!"

Fred and George rush to the front of the room and I can't help but watch them go. Who's to know if this is going to be the last time I see them? I look around the room, wondering who is going to be dead before the end of the night. I pull those evil thoughts from my mind as Oliver leans in close to me.

"Katie, listen to me. I'm going to join Kingsley's group." I do a double take.

"What? But he's going straight to the front lines, Oliver!"

"I know, but I can take care of myself. He's going to need strong people and I want to help."

"Well then, I'll go with you."

"No, Katie. I want you to go with Fred," he says gently. "Please. He'll take care of you."

"But, Oliver…" I mutter. "What if you don't come back?"

"I'll do everything I can to get back to you, Katie. I love you." He leans in and kisses me, right there in front of everyone. When he pulls away, he walks over to where Kingsley's group is already assembled and prepares to leave for the grounds. I walk over to Fred.

"Looks like I'm in your group," I say, never taking my eyes off of Oliver as he walks through the doors to the Great Hall, throwing one last glance my way.

"Oh no you're not," Fred argues, looking scared for the first time all night.

"What? I have to go somewhere and Oliver sent me over here!"

"You can't be with me for the same reason Oliver won't let you be with him. I'd be too distracted watching you to take care of myself. I'm not doing his dirty work for him. You can just go with him if he wants you to be watched!"

"Fine. He's going with Kingsley," I say, knowing Fred would never let me fight on the front lines.

"You can just go with George if Oliver wants you to be watched," Fred corrects himself. "Oi, George! Katie's in your group."

George rolls his eyes, but motions me over nonetheless. I join him and notice that his group consists of not only me, but Angelina and Alicia too.

"Did Fred just send all of us over to you?" I ask him. George nods distractedly, asking Lee about a second entrance to some passageway.

"Miss Bell!" I turn to find Professor McGonagall shouting my name through the hall, trying to locate me.

"Yes!?" I shout back. She spots me and motions me over, a frustrated look on her face.

"This is not a time to be socializing with your friends," she admonishes as I draw nearer. "What use would you be with the Weasley boys? I need my NEWT Trasfiguration students with me."

"But, Professor," I argue as she leads me over to her group. "My transfiguration skills are sketchy at best. The only reason I even passed your exams was because Oliver tutored me!"

"That boy only tutored you during your fourth year—I'm not completely clueless, you know? And you're only the seventh student I've ever had that managed to make an O on your Transfiguration NEWT exam. You're staying with me, Miss Bell." I simply nod, knowing that arguing with McGonagall would be futile at this point.

There are quite a few other people coming with McGonagall, including Percy Weasley, much to my surprise. Dean Thomas and the Patil twins are there also. The rest I recognize only by sight. McGonagall moves to discussing tactics with Flitwick and Sprout, while Percy tries to include his own expertise. I make my way over to Dean, who doesn't look too happy to be here.

"What's your problem? I ask.

"I was supposed to be going with Arthur Weasley's group. McGonagall had other plans. I can't even fight where I want to!"

"Did you manage to find a wand?" I ask, remembering how he was complaining about not having one when he arrived.

"Yeah. Dennis Creevey let me borrow his." I look behind Dean to see George and his group making their way into the corridor. Fred's group is following close behind, but I don't see Fred.

"Where'd Fred get off to?" I mutter, more to myself than to Dean. He points behind me, however, and I turn around to find Fred making his way over.

"You don't follow instructions very well, do you?" he asks. "I told you to go with George. You know him, right? My brother?"

"Yes, well, McGonagall seems to think my Transfiguration skills could come in handy." Fred laughs out loud.

"Is she getting you confused with someone else?"

"There's a very good chance of that," I reply. Fred nods, looking deep into my eyes.

"I love you, Katie," he says simply, pulling me into a tight hug.

"I love you, too," I reply, holding onto him tightly.

"_Mr. Weasley_!" McGonagall cries, catching sight of us. "Aren't you supposed to be somewhere else!"

"Sorry, Professor," he mumbles, reprimanded once more.

"Well, go on then." He gives me one last smile before disappearing.

Professor McGonagall turns to address us. "We are going to the Astronomy Tower. Our job is to keep as many projectiles as possible from hitting the building. Come along; I'll explain as we go."

We make our way out of the now deserted Great Hall and up to the Astronomy Tower, passing harried students and teachers alike as we rush through the halls.

"Keep up, keep up," she continues. "We will be at a perfect trajectory on the tower to cast offensive charms and such, but I would really like for us to concentrate on keeping the students and teachers on the ground safe. Can all of you cast a shield charm? Good."

"Professor, I thought you needed us for our Transfiguration skills?" Dean asks grudgingly.

"I do, Mr. Thomas. The Death Eaters are going to want nothing more than to gain entrance to this castle. And while we can not put that off forever, unfortunately, maybe we can buy some time. At least until reinforcements arrive."

"Reinforcements?" I ask. Who else are we possibly waiting on? Dumbledore's Army and the Order of the Phoenix are all here. Who else would be willing to help?

"Yes, Miss Bell. Reinforcements. Charlie Weasley has been out hunting others loyal to our cause."

We arrive at the Astronomy Tower several minutes later and McGonagall quickly heads to the top.

"Miss Bell, Mr. Thomas, if you two could please cast some protective spells on your way up, it would be much appreciated. The last thing I want right now is for Death Eaters to sneak up and kill us from behind." The remaining students follow her as Dean and I set to work on some protective spells.

"I've actually gotten pretty good at these spells over the past few months. I've been on the run," he explains.

"Yeah, I thought you were muggleborn," I say.

"The thing is, I'm not sure that I am. My dad died when I was young; he could have very well been a wizard."

"I've been in hiding, too," I add. "I was accused of being a muggleborn. My mum was a witch, but she died a few years ago. My birth records weren't saved, so…"

"So you were fucked over. Seems to be a lot of that going around." We finish the spells and make our way up the stairs to the top of the tower.

"So, are you dating Fred?" Dean asks curiously.

"No," I answer, suddenly remembering the fact that Dean Thomas had once asked me out. "I'm engaged to Oliver Wood," I say, flashing my ring in his direction. "Fred and I are just really good friends."

When we arrive at the top, McGonagall is positioning us in pairs along the top of the tower. Dean and I wait at the back of the line.

"You know, it seems kind of ironic that we're fighting up here," he mutters, looking over the sides of the embankments at the people assembled below.

"How so?" I ask.

"Because I spent seven years begging girls to let me take them up here. And now, the only thing I want to do is get away." I smile gently at him as McGonagall reaches us.

"Thomas, why don't you go join Mr. Weasley? Miss Bell, come with me." Seriously? I get partnered with McGonagall? As if fighting isn't enough, now I have to get graded on it!

Her presence does calm me, however. With Dumbledore dead, she's probably one of the most powerful witches alive. This way, if I do something stupid maybe she can still fix it before anything bad comes of it. We stand, looking down at the scene below us. I want to ask questions, but I'm scared I'll get a detention.

"I've never experienced anything like this," she finally mutters, and I can hear the sorrow filling her voice. "And to just have to watch my students being massacred—it's madness! I wish Albus were here."

"Maybe it'll all be okay," I mutter. She looks at me and smiles at my naïveté.

"Maybe it will." I suddenly find myself wondering if she has any children of her own. She'd make a good mother and it strikes me as odd that I wouldn't know the answer. "Distract me, Miss Bell. What have you been doing since your graduation?"

"Well, I was working as a sports reporter for the _Daily Prophet_ until Yaxley accused me of being a muggleborn." McGonagall looks at me in surprise.

"Whatever for? Yaxley had a thing for your mother back at Hogwarts—he knows perfectly well that you are no muggleborn."

"What?!" I cry in shock, but my voice is drowned out as a giant rock comes hurling at the castle. Before I even have time to react, Professor McGonagall flicks her wand at it, turning it into nothing more than a pebble.

"That's the easiest transfiguration to do," she tells me, never taking her eyes off of the battle field. "That way, you don't have to change the molecular composition." I just nod.

It's midnight. The battle has begun.

Hordes of Death Eaters break out of the Forbidden Forest and I see spells flying everywhere. Sadly, the fighting is not yet close enough to the tower for me to cast any shielding charms. I watch the spells fly and can't help but wonder where Oliver is. Finding it better not to worry, I try to focus on the tasks at hand and help Professor McGonagall with the Transfiguration.

As the minutes wear on, it becomes painfully obvious that not only are our troops outnumbered, but also that the meager group of people up here on this Astronomy Tower is not enough to stop everything that is shooting towards Hogwarts's many windows.

A bigger shock arrives a few minutes later when I notice a Giant making his way towards the castle. Professor McGonagall doesn't seem worried, however, but my heart nearly stops in fear.

"Professor—"

"It's only Hagrid's brother, Miss Bell. Do you not see him hanging from Grawp's arms? Now, concentrate!" Although my head is spinning, I allow 'Grawp' to knock out a seventh floor window and place his brother inside.

In some ways I guess Grawp prepared me for the other Giants that arrive a few seconds later, but judging by the look on Professor McGonagall's paling face, these serve no relation to any of Hogwarts's employees.

"Merlin!" She exclaims. "I can't transfigure a Giant!"

The battle rages on and I begin to notice the lifeless bodies that litter the grounds. I try not to stare at them too hard, but even if I did, I couldn't differentiate good from bad at this height.

A sickening crash sounds from below and it doesn't take me long to deduce that the front door has been knocked in. The Death Eater's Giants continue to make their way to the castle and McGonagall orders us to retreat. They can easily reach the tops of the towers and we're serving no one any good if we become Giant Chow.

We regroup at the bottom of the Tower.

"We've got to go fight," Dean yells over the noise from in the castle.

"I know," McGonagall nods. "I know. But I need some help first. I need two of you to accompany me into the Gryffindor Common Room. There is a family of acromantulas making their way into the castle and those we _can_ transfigure."

No one immediately volunteers to go. I want more than anything to join the actual fighting, but McGonagall does have a point. If giant spiders start invading the school, we could easily have a massacre on our hands.

"I'll go," I volunteer. Dean groans from next to me.

"I'll go too," he says.

"Good," McGonagall smirks. "Percy, can you lead the others into the fighting?"

"Of course, Professor," he replies.

"Thank you. And good luck to you all." Dean and I find ourselves traveling after Professor McGonagall once again. She's got some speed for such an old woman.

"You didn't have to come, you know," I tell Dean, knowing how much he wants to get into the thick of the action.

"Yeah, but I feel strangely protective of you. Plus, I saw you casting spells on the Astronomy Tower. You're erratic at best. I couldn't let you screw this up, now could I?" Finally, someone who understands that my transfiguration skills are simply a fluke!

We arrive at the portrait hole and the Fat Lady immediately begins asking questions that McGonagall feels she doesn't have time to answer. She simply states the password and the Fat Lady opens the portrait hole, still voicing her muffled questions.

McGonagall leads Dean and I out onto the balcony of Gryffindor Tower and I feel oddly exposed, with spells rushing around me every which way. The three of us place some protective jinxes around the tower so that we can get our job done without getting ourselves killed. A stray spell hits McGonagall, but all it does is scratch her cheek. Blood flows from her wound freely, but she doesn't seem to notice and yells at the two of us over the noise.

"We're going to have to cast the spells together. There's no chance that we'd ever be able to transfigure an acromantula alone, but I'm hoping that three fully qualified wizards should be able to get the job done. "On the count of three we'll aim towards the one crawling up the Ravenclaw Tower. I think Professor Flitwick still has his group up there. One…" I aim my wand. "Two…three…"

The force of our combined spells hits the giant spider, but nothing happens for several seconds. Then, with an audible pop (even from this distance) the acromantula disappears, turning into nothing more than your everyday spider. The three of us grin at each other with relief.

In all, I think we transfigured about twenty acromantulas until a Giant started heading our way. There's only so much good one can do. We leave Gryffindor Tower and Dean finally gets his wish to join into the thick of the action.

For the first time, I draw my wand to attack, not to protect, because I know that the Death Eaters are going to be aiming to kill. Professor McGonagall charges off down the corridors, shouting spells in her wake and Dean and I follow her as quickly as we can. It's only when we run into the remainder of our group that I am individually confronted by a masked Death Eater. Padma Patil rushes to my aide and together, we manage to stun him.

"Where's Percy?" I ask, glancing around at the bodies littering the floor, as yet another Death Eaters moves to attack us.

"He left with his brother," she yells between spells.

"Which brother?" I ask.

"One of the twins—Fred, I think." A sense of relief rushes through me. At least I know that Fred's still alive. The Death Eater we're fighting sends a stunner straight at Padma and she falls. I stun him in turn and revive Padma, who now has a bloody gash running down her arm, which I'm not sure how she got.

I hear a loud clattering coming from one of the classrooms and look up to find McGonagall ushering a galloping herd of classroom desks down the hall.

"What the hell is she doing with those?" I ask to no one in particular.

"I think it's probably best not to question her," Padma answers, picking herself up off of the floor and rushing to Parvati's side. The two of them are now dueling Travers.

I looked around at Dean dueling Dolohov, but he looked confident enough, so I turned instead to face a masked Death Eater.

I've never had much experience dueling one on one and I've found that I don't particularly enjoy it. I'm horrible at coming up with spells spur of the moment, especially when I'm under pressure. I shoot a stunning spell at the Death Eater, but he quickly shields it, tossing another spell back at me. I dodge around it, but in the process manage to trip over my own feet and come crashing to the ground. My wand rolls out of my grip and the Death Eater approaches me slowly, his wand outstretched.

This is it. This is the end. I'm going to die unarmed, killed by someone who doesn't even have the decency to show me his face. Before he can cast the spell, however, Peeves enters the room with a jovial laugh. I look up at the poltergeist I've grown to hate and he winks at me coyly. With another wicked laugh, he sends a Snargaluff pod down on the Death Eater facing me, encasing his head in wriggling green tubers.

I smile up at the ghost that saved my life and wave. He simply laughs and continues throwing his pods. One of them stops midair and I stare at it curiously.

"Someone's invisible there!" A Death Eater shouts. Dean quickly turns on the man and stuns him, giving Dolohov a chance to finish his opponent. My heart stops dead as he raises his wand, but thankfully Parvati Patil can focus under pressure. She sends a Body-Bind Curse at Dolohov.

"Thanks," Dean mutters and for a moment, everything gets quiet. I look around and notice that all of the Death Eater in our area have been stunned or incapacitated, thanks to Peeves.

Dean, Padma, Parvati, and I look at each other in confusion. Without McGonagall or Percy here to lead us, we don't know where to go next. The pattering of steps coming from the opposite corridor arouses us and we all turn to face the noise with our wands drawn.

A bundle of red hair flies around the corner and skids to a halt upon seeing us. "Whoa," Ginny cries, holding her own wand up for protection. "It's just me."

"Ginny!" I cry, running over to hug her. "Your parents actually let you fight?"

"Um, sure," she answers, smiling up at me. "So what's going on? Have you seen any of my family recently?"

"Percy ran off with Fred about half an hour ago," Padma answers. "I haven't seen anyone with red hair since then." Ginny nods.

"Gin, have you seen Seamus?" Dean asks, walking over to her.

"Yeah, just about two minutes ago in the Front Hall. Him, Luna, and Ernie were making their way onto the grounds. Dementors have shown up." Without a word to anyone, Dean takes off at a run.

"What about Oliver?" I finally ask. Ginny gives me a sympathetic glance.

"I haven't seen him, Katie. Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I'm sure he's fine." Ginny nods and the two of us make our way down the corridor, looking for more fighting. Padma and Parvati had already taken off, searching for their friends.

It doesn't take us long to find a clutter of members from Dumbledore's Army backed into a corner. Ginny and I begin shooting spells in every direction, freeing our trapped friends and stunning the Death Eaters.

"Ginny, duck!" I yell as a flash of green light heads her way. She dodges the killing curse, which strikes a masked Death Eater behind her. The killing of one of their own seems to enrage the Death Eaters and more arrive almost simultaneously until we are out numbered nearly ten to one. I am just about ready to surrender my wand when the cold voice of You-Know-Who echoes around the building once again. The fighting comes to a dead halt and I have half a mind to stun the Death Eaters while I have the chance. I resist the temptation and listen to the voice that I am sure will haunt my dreams for years to come.

"You have fought valiantly. Lord Voldemort knows how to value true bravery.

"Yet you have sustained heavy losses. If you continue to resist me, you will die, one by one. I do not wish this to happen. Every drop of magical blood spilled is a loss and a waste.

"Lord Voldemort is merciful. I command my forces to retreat immediately." The Death Eater in front of me has the audacity to groan at that announcement, as if he was having the time of his life slaughtering us. He probably was.

"You have one hour," You-Know-Who continues. "Dispose of your dead with dignity. Treat your injured.

"I speak now, Harry Potter, directly to you. You have permitted your friends to die for you rather than face me yourself. I shall wait for one hour in the Forbidden Forest. If, at the end of that hour, you have not come to me, have not given yourself up, then battle recommences. This time, I shall enter the fray myself, Harry Potter, and I shall find you, and I shall punish every last man, woman, and child who has tried to conceal you from me. One hour."

Without waiting for any further instructions, the Death Eaters begin filing out of the building. Ginny and I turn to look at each other with sullen faces.

"I guess we should probably head to the Great Hall," I say.

"Yeah," Ginny agrees. I take a few steps forward, but Ginny comes to a halt once more. "I can't."

"Can't what?" I ask.

"I just can't! The dead are going to be brought in there and I'm just not ready to see the people I love lying there lifeless!"

"Maybe…"

"Katie, do you know what the chances of my whole family surviving this are? Well neither do I, but they sure can't be good. And did you see how many dead bodies littered the grounds? My dad was out there! Bill was out there!"

"Oliver was out there," I say softly and she stops her tirade.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's fine. I was pretty damn scared even before you started talking."

"At least you have a pretty good idea of where your boyfriend was and what he was doing," Ginny continues as we make our way to the Great Hall together. "My boyfriend's missing in action. And Voldemort seems to want us to sacrifice him. Merlin, I hope Ron has the sense to tie him to a chair after that last announcement."

I squeeze her hand comfortingly and she refuses to let go.

"So, you and Harry are still dating? For some reason I was thinking Fred told me you broke up."

"Well, technically, yes. But only because he thinks Voldemort wants to use me as bait. At least I think so. I hope he still wants to date me! It's probably the last thing on his mind right now, though."

We reach the doors to the Great Hall and stand off to the side, preparing ourselves, as people are continually entering and exiting the Hall.

"You ready?" I ask Ginny.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she mutters. I turn to open the door, but before I can, it springs open and Oliver storms out, not even noticing me.

"Oliver!" I cry. He turns and looks at me, relief washing over his face.

"Merlin, Katie!" He cries, running over to me and enveloping me in a hug. "No one's seen you in nearly half an hour. Do you know how worried I was?"

"I'm sorry," I say, tears of relief filling my eyes. "Are you okay? You're not hurt are you?"

"No, I'm fine," he answers, pulling away from me. I look into his eyes and notice the pain buried beneath them. His face is pale and his brow is drawn.

"Oliver, what's wrong?" I ask, my heart speeding up. "Who's hurt? What—?"

Ginny rushes over to the two of us. "Is it my Dad? Or Bill? They were with you, right? Are they hurt?"

"No, Ginny, your dad and Bill are fine."

"Well then who is it, Oliver?" I beg. He takes both of my arms in his hands. "Is it Alicia? Angelina? Lee? George?" He shakes his head to each, leaving only one name that matters. The one that I can't say aloud, because saying it will make it true.

"Fred?" Ginny asks quietly from behind me. This time, Oliver nods.

--

**Some of this dialouge is taken directly from Deathly Hallows.**

**Review, please.**


	32. The Battle Continues

**Sorry for the wait. But the next chapter's coming soon. Definitely by next weekend.**

--

_The Battle Continues:_

The sheer terror that suddenly takes me into its clutches is like nothing I've ever experienced before. I hear Ginny make a small noise of shock behind me, but I don't bother to turn around.

"Is he dead?" she asks, her voice already breaking. I close my eyes tight and silently wish that my lack of sight will come with a lack of hearing if only for a minute. If Fred was killed, I certainly don't want to hear it like this.

Oliver doesn't respond aloud, but I assume he either nods or shakes his head because I hear the doors to the Great Hall open and then close and I can tell that Ginny has disappeared from behind me.

I keep my eyes tightly shut. Maybe this is just a dream. Or maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe Fred just got hit by a nasty jinx and he's going to be fine after Madam Pomfrey takes a look at him.

"Katie?" Oliver whispers. I can faintly feel his arms around me, but it doesn't seem to matter much. Even the heat radiating from his body is not providing me with any warmth. I slowly open my eyes and am surprised to find them wet. I quickly brush the tears away and look up at Oliver. I refuse to be weak.

I stare at him for several seconds, but I can't read anything in his eyes. All I see in them is worry as to whether I'm okay and that gives me absolutely no clue as to what's wrong with Fred. But I just can't bring myself to ask him. Because that would make whatever's happened real. And I'm not sure I'm ready for reality just yet.

So we stand there. Oliver not willing to tell me anything until I ask, and me not willing to proffer the question. People continue to walk in and out of the Great Hall, but I don't look at any of them. Finally, I search inside myself and find the tiny bit of Gryffindor courage that remains.

"Is he dead?" I ask quietly. Oliver searches my eyes, making sure that I'm ready to be told the truth.

"He is," Oliver answers simply. And then I can't stop myself. The tears begin to flow and before I know it, I'm outright sobbing. Oliver takes me into his arms, but I can still hear the sounds of my wracking sobs echo through the building.

So many thoughts run through my head at the same time. All at once, I'm thinking about the good times we've had. Playing Quidditch into all hours of the night, walking down by the lake on Sunday mornings, playing pranks on the Slytherins.

But I'm also thinking about everything that his death means.

What about George? I don't think the two of them have ever been apart for longer than a few hours.

And what about his family?

What about me?

The last question makes me cry even harder because I shouldn't be worried about myself right now. But what am I supposed to do without him?

I realize suddenly that I'm shaking and Oliver sits me down on a nearby bench. The shaking doesn't stop.

The minutes continue to tick by, but I just can't pull myself together. The whole while, I faintly hear Oliver telling me that everything's going to be okay, but for the first time in my life his words don't comfort me. As much as he might have pretended to, he never knew Fred like I do. And while he might be upset over his death (and I'm sure he is), he really can't identify with me right now.

As my tears begin to subside and I calm my breathing, I notice Angelina and Alicia, both with red-rimmed eyes, making their way out of the Great Hall. And suddenly all three of us are crying again and rushing towards each other.

Oliver mentions going to help on the grounds, but I'm really not paying any attention.

The three of us cry together for a bit, but Alicia soon pulls away and speaks through her tears in a broken voice. "George and Lee are in there crying. I've never seen them cry before." And that just makes it harder to bear because George and Lee are two of the strongest guys I know.

It took several minutes before we all managed to calm ourselves down. I took one look at our faces and, in any other circumstances, I would have started laughing because we are acting ridiculous. But this isn't in the least bit funny. There is still a war going on and there is no telling how many people lay dead in the Great Hall.

"He's in there?" I ask gesturing towards the room where I made so many happy memories at Hogwarts. I have a feeling that those memories are about to be replaced with a much more somber one. My voice comes out hollow.

"Yeah," Angelina says. "Along with his whole family. I just felt awkward being in there. Like I didn't have any reason to mourn. I mean, it's not like he's related to me or anything."

"Angelina, don't say that," Alicia chokes. "You have just as much right to be sad as the rest of them."

"I want to see him," I say, looking at the closed door. "I need to see him." They don't stop me as I walk towards the door, but I'm not sure that they follow me either.

As I push the door open, it doesn't take me long to spot the row of dead in the center of the Hall. I hear muffled sobs coming from every direction and even the howls of some in pain. I walk towards the line of bodies and it doesn't take me long to find the mass of red hair; all of the Weasleys gathered together. I briefly register Professor Lupin and his wife lying next to the Weasleys but I don't have the heart to mourn for them now.

I do find it a bit sad that no one's gathered around them, though.

I can tell that I'm still not thinking straight, but I try to act fairly normal as I push my way past Ginny and Hermione. I feel Ginny's hand pause on my shoulder, but I don't stop or turn to look at her.

As I break through the outer circle, I stop dead upon seeing Fred's body. His eyes have been closed out of respect and his face is pale white. I take a step closer until I'm right by his side. I fall down by his head, and although I was planning on kneeling anyway, I think my legs simply gave out. That's when I notice George kneeling on his other side.

I look up and George looks up and suddenly my eyes are filled with tears once again, but I'm not ashamed and I don't try to stop them because tears are silently flowing down George's cheeks also. We don't say anything to each other, but he silently reaches across his brother's body and grabs my hand. His touch breaks down the wall that I was trying to keep up and I completely lose it.

George crawls around Fred's head and holds me tightly to him and I can feel my tears staining his shirt. But somehow I know he'll forgive me because I can feel his tears melding with mine. I try to hold it together because I know Mr. and Mrs. Weasley must be in that circle watching us, and I know that they must be suffering far worse than I am. I don't want them to think that I think I'm the only one hurt by this. But I just can't help it.

"He loved you very much, Katie," George says, surprising me. "I don't think you can ever understand just how much."

I look down at Fred's face and although I know that I'll never see him alive again, I smile. Because I don't think I've ever loved someone so much in my life and it would be a shame for him to see me cry. "Thank you, George," I mutter. He just nods and we both stand up.

"Let's go get a Pepperup," he says, pulling me through the crowd. My eyes and face are still wet, but I try to wipe my tears with my free hand. There will be a time for mourning, but this is not it.

Lee's helping Madam Pomfrey hand out Pepperup Potions and I talk to him briefly as I take mine. I express my relief that he's uninjured and he does the same for me.

The Pepperup Potion immediately makes me feel warmer and although it doesn't ease the pain of what has happened, it does give me the strength to carry on at least for a little while. I look at George's watch and find that the hour You-Know-Who promised us is nearly spent.

"Should you go back over to your family?" I ask George. He looks over at them, but shakes his head and I can see his eyes darken if only for a minute.

"To be completely truthful, I don't know how to act around them. I've never had to be without Fred." His voice breaks lightly on his brother's name, but he's able to stop the tears from falling. He's compartmentalizing, just as I am. We'll have to deal with this later, but there are more serious matters at hand right now. "I think I'm going to have to re-learn everything now that he's gone."

"Attention, everyone, attention," Kingsley Shacklebolt's voice is suddenly echoed around the room. "I'm about to head onto the grounds. Anyone that wants to and meet Voldemort's Death Eaters when they come back can join me."

George squeezes my arm gently and makes his way after Shacklebolt. I catch sight of Oliver in the crowd and he waves at me slightly before pushing out of the Great Hall also. I pray to God that he doesn't get hurt.

I find Angelina and Alicia at the back of the room and we stand with some others as we wait for the battle to begin once more. I haven't seen Harry in a while, but I'm assuming he wasn't stupid enough to turn himself over to You-Know-Who.

Because then Fred's death would be for nothing. Just like the Lupins'.

We wait silently, helping Madam Pomfrey when we can, but it doesn't take long before the cold, hard voice of You-Know-Who echoes around me.

"Harry Potter is dead. He was killed as he ran away, trying to save himself while you lay down your lives for him. We bring you his body as proof that your hero is gone."

Angelina, Alicia, and I exchange glances. Without speaking, we begin to run towards the grounds; others follow us anxiously as You-Know-Who continues speaking.

"The battle is won. You have lost half of your fighters. My Death Eaters outnumber you, and the Boy Who Lived is finished. There must be no more war. Anyone who continues to resist, man, woman, or child, will be slaughtered, as will every member of their family. Come out of the castle now, kneel before me, and you shall be spared. Your parents and children, your brothers and sisters will live and be forgiven, and you will join me in the new world we shall build together."

We burst through the front doors, nearly running into the people in front of us, just as You-Know-Who and his followers come to a halt a little ways outside of the forest. All courtesy aside, I push through some of the people until I'm standing near the front. Ironically, I find that Oliver's standing by my side. He nods in my direction, but doesn't say a word.

All hope that You-Know-Who was simply lying comes crashing to the ground as I catch sight of Hagrid, sobbing tears the size golf balls and carrying Harry Potter in his arms. The Boy Who Lived.

"NO!" I look to find Professor McGonagall as the one who cried out so desperately. I hear laughter and notice Bellatrix Lestrange mocking the older woman from You-Know-Who's side.

More cries follow hers and I notice Ron, Hermione, and Ginny making their way to the front of the crowd. I see Ginny's eyes widen in shock and fear. What that poor girl has had to go through tonight; first her brother and now her almost-boyfriend.

And Ron too. Harry's his best friend. This is just not fair.

Shouts and taunts are exchanged from both sides, but my heart's just not into it. What does this mean? Harry was the hope of all of us. Without him, how are we supposed to win?

"SILENCE!" You-Know-Who yells, sending a loud bang and a bright light issuing from his wand. "It is over! Set him down, Hagrid, at my feet, where he belongs!" I watch as Hagrid lowers Harry to the ground, his giant tears still falling. "You see? Harry Potter is dead! Do you understand now, deluded ones? He was nothing, ever, but a boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron yells and I find a newfound appreciation for the boy. I've never really taken the time to get to know Ron. Hermione talked about him some with me and Ginny—about what an oblivious prick he was—but I've never gotten to know him beyond that. Well, except for the time that he broke my nose with a quaffle, but I hardly think now's the time to mention that.

People shout their agreement with Ron, but You-Know-Who sends out another loud bang to silence him. It makes me jump because for a second I thought You-Know-Who was going to hurt Ron. And the Weasleys just wouldn't be able to handle that right now.

"He was killed while trying to sneak out of the castle grounds," You-Know-Who continues. "Killed while trying to save himself—"

You-Know-Who doesn't complete his sentence because at that moment Neville Longbottom breaks through the line at a run, shouting, with his wand raised towards the murderer. With a casual flick of his own wand, Neville is Disarmed with a enough force to send him crashing to the ground.

"And who is this?" You-Know-Who asks, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Who has volunteered to demonstrate what happens to those who continue to fight when battle is lost?"

Bellatrix laughs loudly and it makes my blood boil. "It is Neville Longbottom, my Lord!" she answers mirthfully. "The boy who has been giving the Carrows so much trouble! The son of the Aurors, remember?"

I didn't know Neville's parents were Aurors…

"Ah, yes, I remember," You-Know-Who answers as Neville valiantly rises to his feet. "But you are a pureblood, aren't you, my brave boy?"

"So what if I am?" Neville asks loudly.

"You show spirit and bravery, and you come of noble stock. You will make a valuable Death Eater. We need your kind, Neville Longbottom."

"I'll join you when hell freezes over," he replies. "Dumbledore's Army!" I admire his bravery and join with the rest in cheering at his battle cry.

"Very well," You-Know-Who says, causing us to quiet down in order to hear him. "If that is your choice, Longbottom, we revert to the original plan. On your head, be it."

I stand, my heart beating fiercely as You-Know-Who raises his wand. At the last second, however, he points it at one of the castle's broken windows and a torn and tattered object comes flying into his hands. It takes me a while to recognize the Sorting Hat.

"There will be no more Sorting at Hogwarts School," he announces. "There will be no more Houses. The emblem, shield, and colors of my noble ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, will suffice for everyone. Won't they, Longbottom?"

Before Neville can answer, You-Know-Who points his wand at the young man, paralyzing him where he stands. He then forces the hat onto Neville's head. Not knowing what to expect, several people try to make their way over to help him but the Death Eaters point their wands at the crowd, keeping all of us in our places.

"Neville here is now going to demonstrate what happens to anyone foolish enough to continue to oppose me," You-Know-Who says casually, and with a flick of his wand he sets the Sorting Hat aflame. I can't help the scream that escapes from my throat, but I'm not the only one.

Suddenly, commotion abounds from every side.

I hear an uproar of battle cries as a large group of reinforcements comes running around the corner, Charlie Weasley at their front. I find myself briefly wondering if he knows what has happened to Fred.

Besides that, a Giant also stumbles onto the grounds yelling for "Hagger" and Neville finds himself free of the Body-Bind curse. As all of You-Know-Who's Giants run after Hagrid's brother, Neville throws the Sorting Hat off of himself and draws a sword from his waist.

I find it hard to decide where to look because so much is happening at once. Arrows are flying across the grounds in every direction and I see centaurs stampeding from the Forest. My main focus is on Neville, however, and I see him lunge his sword not towards You-Know-Who but towards his snake, decapitating the animal.

After that, I lose sight of him. Because Death Eaters and Dumbledore's Army alike are pushing me in every direction.

Harry might be dead, but this battle is not over yet.

--

**Please review. This chapter was tough to write and I'd appreciate some feedback.**


	33. The Battle Ends

**So, I'm completely sick right now. And it's not the swine flu—I swear. But lucky for you, that means I have a day to post :) **

**As with the past few chapters, a lot of the dialogue in this one is taken strictly from the books. Especially the battle between Harry and Voldemort. It was something I had to include and I had no choice but to use JKR's writing.**

**---**

_The Battle Ends:_

Chaos ensues and I quickly lose sight of Oliver as I am buffeted into the entrance hall of Hogwarts. I draw my wand and haphazardly shoot spells at all of the Death Eaters I can catch sight of; I don't make contact with very many, but it is more important that I seek the safety of the building as You-Know-Who's force of Giants are thrashing around the grounds like crazy, trying to avoid Hagrid's thestrals.

I push my way through the crowd, heading for the Great Hall. You-Know-Who is firing spells off as he backs into the room, calling orders to his followers all the while.

All of a sudden, I catch sight of a jet of green light heading my way. There is no time for me to move, but all of a sudden the Killing Curse changes course, striking a robed Death Eater and knocking him to the ground. I look around for my savior.

"Can you be more careful?" Charlie Weasley yells above the ruckus, coming up from behind me.

I turn to face him, only to find that a Death Eater is standing not feet form him, his wand raised.

"Stupefy!" I yell and the Death Eater goes crashing to the ground. Charlie does a double-take.

"Can you be more careful?" I joke, even though I know now is really not the best time. He rolls his eyes and grabs me by the arm, pulling me towards the Great Hall.

"Is my family okay?" he asks as we run. I look up at him. So, he doesn't know. "I saw Ginny and Ron, but I haven't seen anyone else…"

Half of me wants to lie, but I know that I couldn't do that to Charlie and even if I did, he would be able to tell. I've never been a very good liar. "Fred's dead," I say, barely loud enough for him to hear.

"What?" he asks, coming to a dead halt inside the Great Hall. I know he heard me, so I don't bother repeating myself. A spell suddenly shoots between the two of us and I'm thrown to the ground. Charlie speeds off in the opposite direction after making sure I'm okay. I pick myself up off of the ground, only to catch sight of the Death Eater that had thrown the spell.

He continues to walk slowly towards me, and I take a deep breath as he pulls back his hood. Yaxley. Suddenly all of the rage I've felt over the past few months comes bubbling to the surface.

"Ah, the filthy little mudblood," he taunts, making his way over so that we're only feet from each other. "I noticed that your boyfriend was dead. Hope you two got one last snog in before he was killed. Such a shame."

His casual mention of Fred sends me over the edge. "Expelliarmus!" I yell. With a gentle chuckle, he blocks the spell.

"Such a mediocre witch. Must be all of that mudblood in you."

"Shut up! I know very well that you know I'm not a muggleborn! McGonagall informed me that you used to have a thing for my mother back in Hogwarts. You're just bitter that she chose a muggle over you!"

"Hold your tongue, girl!" He shouts venomously. "You know nothing about me! I would never care about a bloodtraitor."

"She was happy with my father, you know? And she hated the likes of you."

"You bitch!" he cries, raising his wand towards me. Before I can retaliate, however, George and Lee run up out of nowhere and knock him to the ground. I watch in shock as Lee takes his wand out of his hand and George punches him hard in the face.

"I had him!" I cry. "You two suck!"

"Nothing personal, Katie," George says, binding Yaxley with ropes from his wand. "He destroyed my shop. I destroyed his face. Now we're even."

"He destroyed my life," I argue.

"He got you together with Oliver—it doesn't count. Hey, c'mon, let's go help Ron and Neville with Greyback. Poor blokes don't know what they're doing." We make our way over and add our stunning spells to Neville's and Ron's until Greyback is contained. I look up and take in my surroundings.

In every direction, Death Eaters are falling. You-Know-Who, however, doesn't seem able to be stopped as he's taking on McGonagall, Slughorn, and Kingsley Shacklebolt all at once.

"He can't be killed," I mutter, and George claps me on the shoulder comfortingly.

"Damn, is that Ginny?" He asks suddenly, growing pale as he catches sight of his sister dueling Bellatrix Lestrange with Hermione Granger and Luna Lovegood by her side. He immediately rushes over, Lee and I following him closely. I watch in shock as a Killing Curse comes just inches from Ginny. George begins running faster and Ron pushes me out of the way to come to his sister's aide also.

"NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" An angry voice suddenly cries and Molly Weasley comes running towards Bellatrix, shedding her cloak as she goes. George and Ron come to a halt at the sight of their mother, as does the rest of the hall. "Out of my way!"

All eyes stay locked on Mrs. Weasley and Bellatrix as they begin exchanging spells in rapid succession. It is obvious that both of them are aiming to kill. All the while, You-Know-Who continues to battle his three, but they are making very little progress against him.

George, still pale, rushes to aide his mother alongside Ron. "No!" Mrs. Weasley cries. "Get back! Get _back_! She is mine!" They back off, as do the other students that had rushed forward to help.

"What will happen to your children when I've killed you?" Bellatrix asks menacingly. "When Mummy's gone the same way as Freddie?"

"You—will—never—touch—our—children—again!" Molly screams and with one last curse directly above the heart, Bellatrix falls, her last laugh still echoing around the hall.

You-Know-Who lets out a scream from across the room and I look up in surprise. Who knew that he was capable of displaying any emotion? He sends McGonagall, Slughorn, and Shacklebolt flying and raises his wand so that it's pointed directly at Molly Weasley.

Molly faces him confidently, head-on, already knowing her fate.

"_Protego!_" A voice suddenly roars, grabbing the attention of everyone left in the Hall as a giant shield charm comes between You-Know-Who and the rest of us. I look around for the source of the voice and find Harry standing in the middle of the room, his Invisibility Cloak lying beside him.

Several people scream their relief that he's alive, but it doesn't last long as he turns to face You-Know-Who. My head, for one, is reeling. Too much has happened today and, quite frankly, I have no emotions left to be grateful that Harry's still alive. Although I'm sure I am; I just can't feel it.

"I don't want anyone else to try to help," Harry yells to the assembled group. "It's got to be like this. It's got to be me."

A hand suddenly folds into mine and I'm surprised to find Ginny standing next to me. Her face is pale and I squeeze her hand reassuringly.

"Potter doesn't mean that," You-Know-Who replies. "That isn't how he works, is it? Who are you going to use as a shield today, Potter?"

"Nobody," Harry replies. "There are no more Horcruxes. It's just you and me. Neither can live while the other survives, and one of us is about to leave for good…" What the hell is a Horcrux?

"One of us?" You-Know-Who laughs. "You think it will be you, do you, the boy who has survived by accident, and because Dumbledore was pulling the strings?"

"Accident, was it, when my mother died to save me?" he asks as they continue circling each other like a predator would his prey. "Accident, when I decided to fight in that graveyard? Accident, that I didn't defend myself tonight, and still survived, and returned to fight again."

"_Accidents_!" You-Know-Who screams stubbornly. "Accident and chance and the fact that you crouched and sniveled behind the skirts of greater men and women, and permitted me to kill them for you!"

"You won't be killing anyone else tonight. You won't be able to kill any of them ever again. Don't you get it? I was ready to die to stop you from hurting these people—"

"But you did not!"

"—I meant to, and that's what did it. I've done what my mother did. They're protected from you. Haven't you noticed how none of the spells you put on them are binding? You can't torture them. You can't touch them. You don't learn from your mistakes, Riddle, do you?"

Well, that certainly explains how Neville was able to free himself from the flaming Sorting Hat. I was wondering about that.

"_You dare—_"

"Yes, I dare," Harry countered. "I know things you don't know, Tom Riddle. I know lots of important things that you don't. Want to hear some, before you make another big mistake?"

I can see the worry etched onto You-Know-Who's face as he responds. "Is it love again? Dumbledore's favorite solution, _love_, which he claimed conquered death, though love did not stop him falling from the tower and breaking like an old waxwork? _Love_, which did not prevent me stamping out your Mudblood mother like a cockroach, Potter—and nobody seems to love you enough to run forward this time and take my curse. So what will stop you dying now when I strike?"

I feel Ginny try to pull free of my grasp, but I don't let her go. Harry obviously knows what he's doing. I see George restraining Ron only a few feet from us. That must be torture--watching your best friend face You-Know-Who and being helpless to stop it.

"Just one thing," Harry replies calmly.

"If it is not love that will save you this time, you must believe that you have magic that I do not, or else a weapon more powerful than mine."

"I believe both." You-Know-Who looks stunned for a few seconds, but quickly hides his shock behind a mask of laughter.

"You think _you_ know more magic than I do? Than _I_, than Lord Voldemort, who has performed magic that Dumbledore himself never dreamed of?"

"Oh, he dreamed of it, but he knew more than you, knew enough not to do what you've done."

"You mean he was weak!" You-Know-Who screams. "Too weak to dare, too weak to take what might have been his, what will be mine!"

"No, he was cleverer than you, a better wizard, a better man."

"I brought about the death of Albus Dumbledore!"

"You thought you did," Harry corrects, "but you were wrong." My heart stops beating once more. Is Dumbledore still alive? I saw the body!

"_Dumbledore is dead!" _You-Know-Who shouts. "His body decays in the marble tomb in the grounds of this castle, I have seen it, Potter, and he will not return!"

"Yes, Dumbledore is dead," Harry replies. "But you didn't have him killed. He chose his own manner of dying, chose it months before he died, arranged the whole thing with the man you thought was your servant."

"What childish dream is this?" You-Know-Who scoffs.

"Severus Snape wasn't yours. Snape was Dumbledore's, Dumbledore's from the moment you started hunting down my mother. And you never realized it, because of the thing you can't understand. You never saw Snape cast a Patronus, did you, Riddle?"

Okay, now I'm completely lost? Snape was good? And in love with Harry's mother? This poor kid! You-Know-Who doesn't answer Harry's inquiry, but he doesn't make any move to attack either.

"Snape's Patronus was a doe," Harry answers his own question. "The same as my mother's, because he loved her for nearly all of his life, from the time when they were children. You should have realized. He asked you to spare her life, didn't he?"

"He desired her, that was all, but when she had gone, he agreed that there were other women, and of purer blood, worthier of him—"

"Of course he told you that but he was Dumbledore's spy from the moment you threatened her, and he's been working against you ever since! Dumbledore was already dying when Snape finished him!"

"It matters not!" You-Know-Who argues with one of his characteristic laughs. "It matters not whether Snape was mine or Dumbledore's, or what petty obstacles they tried to put in my path! I crushed them as I crushed your mother, Snape's supposed great _love_! Oh, but it all makes sense, Potter, and in ways that you do not understand!

"Dumbledore was trying to keep the Elder Wand from me! He intended that Snape should be the true master of the wand! But I got there ahead of you, little boy—I reached the wand before you could get your hands on it, I understood the truth before you caught up. I killed Severus Snape three hours ago, and the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, the Wand of Destiny is truly mine! Dumbledore's last plan went wrong, Harry Potter!"

Okay, I am so lost. Someone better be able to explain this to me later.

"Yeah, it did," Harry agrees. "You're right. But before you try to kill me, I'd advise you to think about what you've done…Think, and try for some remorse, Riddle…"

"What is this?" You-Know-Who questions and I can't help but agree with him. What is Harry getting at? Is he just stalling?

"It's your one last chance, it's all you've got left….I've seen what you'll be otherwise….Be a man…try…Try for some remorse…."

"You dare—?" You-Know-Who asks for the second time.

"Yes, I dare, because Dumbledore's last plan hasn't backfired on me at all. It's backfired on you, Riddle. The wand still isn't working properly for you because you murdered the wrong person. Severus Snape was never the true master of the Elder Wand. He never defeated Dumbledore."

"He killed—"

"Aren't you listening? _Snape never beat Dumbledore_! Dumbledore's death was planned between them! Dumbledore intended to die undefeated, the wand's last true master! If all had gone as planned, the wands power would have died with him, because it had never been won from him!"

"But then, Potter, Dumbledore as good as gave me the wand! I stole the wand from its last master's tomb! I removed it against its last master's wishes! Its power is mine!"

"You still don't get it, Riddle, do you?" Harry chuckles. "Possessing the wand isn't enough! Holding it, using it, doesn't make it really yours. Didn't you listen to Ollivander? _The wand chooses the wizard…_ The Elder Wand recognized a new master before Dumbledore died, someone who never even laid a hand on it. The new master removed the wand from Dumbledore against his will, never realizing exactly what he had done, or that the world's most dangerous wand had given him his allegiance…."

Are there subtitles to this thing?

"The true master of the Elder Wand was Draco Malfoy," Harry announces proudly. I look around the Hall, but can't see Malfoy anywhere. He probably fled ages ago.

"But what does it matter?" You-Know-Who asks. "Even if you are right, Potter, it makes no difference to you and me. You no longer have the phoenix wand: We duel on skill alone…and after I have killed you, I can attend to Draco Malfoy…"

"But you're too late," Harry continues calmly. "You've missed your chance. I got there first. I overpowered Draco weeks ago. I took this wand from him."

I look at the wand Harry is brandishing with a new sense of reverence. Whatever this Elder Wand thing is, it seems pretty powerful. And if that is the wand that is going to kill You-Know-Who, I'm glad Harry has it.

"So it all comes down to this, doesn't it?" Harry continues. "Does the wand in your hand know its last master was Disarmed? Because if it does…I am the true master of the Elder Wand."

A pregnant silence fills the Hall just as the sun begins to rise over the horizon, illuminating both Harry and You-Know-Who's faces. A new day is dawning. Their mouths open at the same moment, as if by some silent cue, and they both cast their spells.

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

"_Expelliarmus!"_

A loud bang fills the hall as the two spells meet in the middle. Suddenly, You-Know-Who's wand comes shooting out of his hand towards Harry, unwilling to kill its rightful master. I'm so distracted watching Harry catch the wand that I almost miss You-Know-Who falling to the floor. His eyes roll to the back of his head and this time I know it's over.

I stand in complete shock for several seconds, not willing to believe that the man that has haunted my dreams for months is truly dead. Shouts of joy soon fill the hall as the impact of You-Know-Who's death suddenly sinks in. Ginny pulls out of my grip and runs towards Harry; this time I don't bother to stop her. Everything is safe.

The next few hours go by in a rush. People surround Harry, offering him their gratitude and relief that he's alive. You-Know-Who's body is moved out of the main hall and an area of reverence is set up for the dead—a number encompassing about fifty brave witches and wizards, including Fred, the Lupins, and Colin Creevy. McGonagall summons the four house tables and the House Elves quickly set to work preparing food for all of those assembled.

I'm so exhausted that all I want to do is lie down, but I'm also way too emotional to do so. There's no chance I would be able to go to sleep.

Oliver hasn't let me out of his sight since You-Know-Who fell and I know that he's just waiting on me to collapse. I have yet to feel the happiness that I expected to come with You-Know-Who's defeat, but I'm sure it'll sink in one day.

I sit on one of the house benches next to Angelina and Alicia, Oliver only a few feet away talking to Shacklebolt about his new position as interim Minister of Magic. We are all silent, still letting the events of the day sink in. Lee soon joins us and we know without saying anything that we are all thinking of Fred.

The Weasleys are all huddled together on the other side of the room (minus Ron, who disappeared a few minutes before with Hermione) and we are all huddled together on this side. It seems like an unbreachable barrier, separating the grief of family and the grief of friends. I want more than anything to go talk to Mrs. Weasley and offer her my condolences, but I doubt that it would mean much.

"Hey, guys." I turn in surprise to find George taking a seat next to me. We all give him a half-hearted smile. "It's been a long day," he mutters.

"George, are you okay?" Angelina asks bluntly. We all look at him for an answer.

"Not in particularly," he smiles and I know he's only doing it for our benefit. "But I don't really want to talk about it right now. There's no reason to put down everyone's brilliant mood."

Oliver joins us a few seconds later and immediately brings up the chances of a Quidditch final happening now that You-Know-Who's gone. Thankful for a change in subject, we thoroughly debate the topic.

"Hey, Cullen's here," I whisper to Oliver as George and Lee begin to discuss moving Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes back into the Diagon Alley shop. Strangely, George seems fine discussing that topic, even if it is indirectly related to Fred.

"I know, I talked to him earlier," Oliver whispers back. "He came to fight with Charlie's reinforcements. Leanne's here somewhere too—she didn't fight, of course. Have you seen her recently? She's big! I think the baby's due in a month."

I smile gently into his shoulder, allowing my eyes to close briefly.

"Do you want to go home and sleep, Katie? You look exhausted."

"I wouldn't be able to sleep," I reply. He knows it's the truth, so he doesn't press the subject.

"Hey, Alicia, is there an extra bed at your place?" George suddenly asks. "I just need somewhere to crash for a few days. I can always stay here is you don't." Oliver and I look up from our conversation. George is still putting on a mask for the rest of us, but that question alone is enough to show how much he's hurting. He can't be around his family right now without getting too upset and he doesn't want to stay in the flat above his shop because it reminds him too much of Fred.

"I actually don't," she says finally. "Not with my brother and Lee both there. The extra bed and the couch are both taken."

I look to Oliver for permission before volunteering his flat. He nods lightly. "We have a free couch," I say.

"You're sure I wouldn't be imposing?" he asks, but a thankful grin is already spread across his face.

"Not at all," Oliver answers. "The more the merrier. Just ask Angelina." Angelina gives him a sheepish grin.

"I can move back into mine and Alicia's old flat now," she argues.

"Oh, I can too!" Alicia says, finally realizing the full effect of You-Know-Who's demise.

As the Hall begins to clear, George walks over to his family once more to inform them of where he's staying. Oliver also excuses himself to go talk to Cullen. Alicia and Lee leave soon after, still discussing their future living arrangements. Angelina stays with me.

"That was nice of you to offer George a place to say," she says quietly.

"It's the least I could do."

"I know it is, but…this is going to be hard, Katie. Are we allowed to mourn in front of him because I'm about to break down."

"I am too Angelina, but if he can hold it in, so can we."

"We're going to have to discuss this sooner or later."

"But not tonight. Just give him time. We all need time."

"I'm going to go on home, then," Angelina says. "Get it out of my system before he joins us. I'll see you in a few minutes, Katie." She gives me one last kiss on the cheek and then exits the Great Hall.

I sit there in silence for a few minutes, insanely exhausted. I want nothing more than to close my eyes and forget this day, but I know that I can't without reliving it.

"Katie?" Oliver says from behind me. I turn and immediately know that something's wrong by the look on his face. Cullen is waiting on him just a few steps away.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

"Nothing's wrong," he sighs, taking a seat next to me. "But if you don't mind, I think I'm going to stay with Cullen for a few days." I look into Oliver's eyes and I know that I'm unable to keep the hurt out of my own. He's my fiancé and yet he can't seem to be able to put up with my grief.

"If that's what you want, Oliver, then that's fine," I reply, turning away from him.

"Katie, don't," he begs, pulling me back towards him. "Please don't do this. I love you, you know that, but I just can't be in that house with you, Angelina, and George. It would kill me. You all loved Fred in a way that I didn't, and while I'm tremendously upset that he was killed, I don't know how to grieve like the three of you will be doing. I'm sorry, Katie, but I just need to get away from that."

"But Oliver, _I_ need you." He closes his eyes tightly and I can tell that I'm hurting him.

"Katie, I'll be at Cullen's. You can come over whenever you need to. And all you have to do is tell me to come home and I'll be there. But, please, please, don't make me listen to you cry over him. Katie, I couldn't handle it. I know I have no right, but I am still jealous of him."

"Oliver, that's—"

"Bloody crazy? I know that, Katie, don't you think I know that? But I've completely convinced myself that you could never love me the way that you loved him. And I really don't want that reiterated right now. I'm leaving with Cullen. I love you, Kates. Please understand that." He gives my hand one last gentle squeeze and leaves the room. I'm left feeling more guilty than I have in ages.

Although I've been doing better these past few months, I _have_ always favored Fred's opinions to Oliver's. I just never knew it affected him so much. What is wrong with me? Do I not believe in love after all?

My mind completely clouds over and I can't see or think about anything but Fred's lifeless body. I have to see him. I rush out of the Great Hall and turn the corner to where the dead bodies have been placed. The corridor is empty except for one man.

Upon seeing Charlie Weasley, I turn around. My movement, however, startles him and he catches sight of me. Our eyes meet for the briefest second, but it is enough for me to catch sight of his tears.

"I'm sorry," I say hurriedly, already backing away.

"Katie, no, stay," he mutters, wiping his eyes. "I was just leaving."

"Charlie, no, I've already paid my respects." Those words suddenly come crashing down on me—words I never thought I'd ever have to say about Fred Weasley and, unbidden, I feel my own eyes fill.

He comes over to me and hugs me tight, before leaving the corridor without another word. My heart breaks all over again because I feel that Charlie has more right to be here than I do. He should have just sent me on my way.

Just as before, I fall to the ground next to Fred's head, but this time I just let the tears flow, every last one of them. I can barely see him through my tears by the time I start to feel anger towards his death. The thing is I don't even know who I'm angry with: the Death Eaters or Fred?

How dare he leave me and his family like that? Surely there was something he could have done! He's never nearly as careful as he should be.

"Damn it, Fred," I yell, and am quickly embarrassed. I'm yelling at a dead guy. That just makes me cry harder. "Why'd you have to leave me?" I cry. "This is supposed to be one of the most happy days of my life, and instead I'm sitting here crying over you. What the hell is wrong with you?"

He doesn't respond, although I didn't really expect him to.

"Katie?" a voice asks from behind me. I turn to find Ginny standing there. I quickly wipe my eyes, although the tears don't stop, and I'm so ashamed. I'm sitting here yelling at her brother like this is all his fault.

"Bloody hell," I cry. "Ginny, I'm so sorry."

"No, it's fine," she assures me, taking a seat next to me. "But maybe you should just talk. Instead of yell, I mean. Charlie thought you were having a mental breakdown."

"Great," I mutter.

"Look, just…I'll show you." Ginny turns her eyes to Fred and although I can see them glistening, she seems to have found a way to keep it in. She then starts speaking to her brother as if he's alive and well, right in front of her. "Fred, you missed the best part, mate. You should have seen Harry duel Voldemort. He was bloody brilliant. I know you probably think I'm incredibly biased, but it's the truth. I'm sure Katie agrees with me.

"I still haven't talked to him, though—Harry, I mean," she continues and I'm surprised at the serenity in her voice. "I know you got tired of hearing me whine at Auntie Muriel's, but I really think it could work out now. He did say that the only reason he broke up with me last year was because he didn't think it was safe for us to be together. Well, it's definitely safe now.

"You never would let me tell you that I love him, Fred, but it's the truth," she says, tears streaming from her eyes. "And I just wanted you to know that—that I love Harry and that I think he loves me and that I don't think I'm too far off assuming that we could end up getting married.

"And I want you to know that you are the best big brother any girl could ask for, although Michael Corner and Dean Thomas may not agree. I love you, Fred."

She wipes her eyes and then looks over at me. "Your turn," she says gently. I look back at her shocked, but there _are_ some things that I need to tell him.

"Ginny, he can't—"

"Sure he can," she argues before I can say anything else. "Luna was going on about some spiritual plane, but I think it's much simpler than that. Do you believe in an afterlife?"

"Yes. I think it would be awfully depressing if this was it."

"Then Fred's out there somewhere. And he can hear what you say."

I look at her skeptically, but I know that it's true. I take a deep breath and then face Fred's lifeless body.

"Fred," I start, but am at a loss as to what to tell him. That I miss him already? That I love him? Those are things that he probably already knows. What has happened to me that I haven't told him about? I smirk when I think of something. "I'm engaged. For real this time. Oliver asked me just before Neville summoned us to Hogwarts. So, I'm getting married. And I know that you were never too fond of Oliver, but you said yourself that you thought he was the best person for me. And I honestly believe that, Fred, I really do. I think he's the one.

"I would have liked for you to be at my wedding, and even if he won't admit it, I think Oliver would too. You have very sucky timing, I'll give you that." Ginny laughs next to me. Ironically, I feel my eyes tear up once more.

"I love you, Fred. I don't think I realized just how much until you were gone. I don't know how I'm supposed to continue on day after day without you there. You've always been there! I just…I just wish I'd known this was going to happen and then maybe I could…I don't know. Maybe I could have told you all of this before you died. I love you and no one's ever going to be able to replace you. Good bye, Fred."

Ginny hugs me when I finish talking and the both of us stay back there and shed the last of our tears before leaving.

"Merlin, I never want to break down like that again," I say as we make our way to the Entrance Hall and out onto the grounds. The warmth of the sunlight surprises me—it's much too glorious of a day for my mood. We take a seat by the lake and, following Ginny's lead, I take off my shoes and dip my feet in.

"Why won't Harry come talk to me?" Ginny asks quietly, changing the subject. "I mean, I know he probably has more important things to deal with, but I really want to see him. And quite frankly, I need him right now. He's being thoroughly selfish."

I chuckle lightly. "He'll come around. The poor boy's probably just tired."

"That better be it. Because I'm tired too. Ron and Hermione haven't come back either, though, so I assume he's with them. I think they're together now—Ron and Hermione. It took them long enough."

"Some people just have thick heads."

"You're one to talk. How long did it take you to finally get together with Oliver? It was quite a while, if I recall correctly."

"That's really not relevant," I laugh. We sit in silence for a few minutes.

"I probably shouldn't be bringing this up," Ginny finally says, "But I'm thinking about it and I think you should know. Mum wants to have the funeral next week. She suggested that you speak at it, but George told her no." I tense up at Ginny's words. "He told her you were suffering just as much as we were and that you should be considered family in this matter."

"That's really not necessary."

"I just wanted to let you know that the option's there if you want it. I think Harry's going to speak. Ron was under that impression anyway. It'd just be nice if someone who knew him a little better said a few words too. But I can always ask Lee."

"I'll think about it," I consent. I have no clue if I'd be able to get through a eulogy, but I know that Fred would do it for me, so the least I can do is sleep on it.

"Thank you." She hugs me tightly and when she pulls away, I catch sight of a man hiding in the shadows behind her. I jump slightly, before reassuring myself that there's nothing left to hurt me. The man comes into the light and I immediately recognize Harry Potter.

"Ginny," I grin, nudging her shoulder. She looks behind her and then turns back to me quickly, her eyes wide. "Go." Without another word, she gets up and runs to Harry. He pulls her into a hug, lifting her off of the ground, and I find myself unable to look away. As he sets her back down, I make my way to Hogsmeade, preparing to Apparate home.

It's not an all together pleasing thought, though, because I know that my own love will not be at home to greet me so warmly.

---

**Review, please :)**


	34. Business as Usual

**Okay, so I'm not usually the type to offer excuses for late updates, but this one is actually pretty funny. I started this chapter a few weeks ago on my laptop. Well, one day I turn it on to find that my mouse is not working. It's stuck in the middle of the screen. Everything on the computer still worked—the mouse just wouldn't move which made typing a real pain. Anyway, I finally got around to taking it to Best Buy yesterday and it turns out that there's a button on the mouse pad thing that freezes the mouse. I obviously pushed it without realizing it. So, that was pretty embarrassing.**

**Also, I would strongly encourage everyone to read the Author's Note at the end of this chapter (of course if you don't normally read Author's Notes, you won't be reading this). I'm going to take a little time to clarify Fred and Katie's relationship as I see it.**

**Happy Reading!**

**--**

_Business as Usual_:

The flat is eerily quiet when I Apparate home. A quick look around the building shows me that George is not here yet. Angelina's door is closed, but I have no doubt that she is in there. A part of me wants to go talk to her and make sure she's all right, but the other part knows that I'm not strong enough to handle that right now. Plus, she might be sleeping. Although it's barely noon, we've all been through a great ordeal and I know that I, for one, could use some sleep.

Merlin, my sleeping pattern is going to be screwed for days.

I take a deep breath and make my way into the room that Oliver and I share. I grab some pajamas and head into the bathroom, starting the hot water in the shower. As soon as the water is warm enough, I climb in.

I half expect the tears to come once more, but they don't. In fact, the only thing I feel now is numb. Maybe I've already cried all of my tears. Or maybe I'm so tired that I just don't care right now. I close my eyes and let the warm water run over me, washing me clean. Scenes from the previous night come rushing back at me and I grab my head to try to stop them.

I open my eyes to the pristine white of Oliver's bathroom, but the images still haunt me. Every time I blink a flash of You-Know-Who's face pops into my head. My breath begins to grow ragged and a physical pain shoots through my chest. I sit down on the floor of the shower and pull my knees up to my chin.

The tears stay stagnant once more. Pictures of the dead rush forefront to my mind, but I don't move. I simply sit there and hope the water provides me with some sort of cathartic experience.

I don't know how long I stayed like that—long after the water had grown cold—but I was far from caring. Nothing really seems to matter now that everything is over.

I finally climb out of the shower. My skin is wrinkled from the water to the point that it is almost painful, but I simply dry off and slip into my pajama bottoms and a Puddlemere T-shirt that I'm sure belonged to Oliver at some point. I bring it up to my nose to try to smell his scent, but I guess it's been in my possession a little too long. There's no trace of him left in it.

I take a look at myself in the mirror and am surprised to find my face looking so hollow. I pinch my cheeks to try and bring some color back to them, but it barely helps. My eyes aren't swollen so I guess that's a good thing. My hair, however, is getting more and more out of control everyday. I really do need to cut it… I roll my eyes at my own thoughts. Am I really thinking about my hair right now?

I angrily throw it into a ponytail and step out of the room. Angelina's door is still firmly shut across the hall, so I make my way into the living room. George is there, digging through some of his bags. I stare at him for a few seconds because it strikes me for the first time in years just how much he looks like Fred. That may sound stupid considering they _are_ twins and everything, but I just never think about it anymore. They're two separate entities and for the first time since I met them, I honestly couldn't tell you for sure which twin was standing in front of me if I didn't know Fred was dead.

He becomes aware of my presence and turns to face me. It's only then that I see his missing ear and know for certain that it is George. I shake my head angrily. Am I going to have to live like this now? Always questioning whether it's Fred when I see the back of George's head.

"Hey," he mutters.

"Hi," I reply. "Are you looking for something?"

"Just a change of clothes," he replies. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Kates. I just…I can't be around my Mum when it's killing her to look at me. To see her dead son in my eyes."

"No, George. It's fine," I say sincerely. He smiles up at me and I can see the pain behind his smile. He's trying to hold his feelings in, but I can see that he isn't going to be successful for much longer. "The bathroom's right down the hall if you want to shower."

"Thanks. Yeah, I think I'll do that. Where's Oliver? I want to thank him too." At the sound of Oliver's name, Bludger comes in from the kitchen, whining loudly. I reach out to pet him before I respond.

"He's actually spending the night at Cullen and Leanne's so he won't be back until in the morning," I explain, although I have no legitimate hope that he'll be home that soon.

"Well, okay. Is Angelina here? Is she okay?"

"She's in her room," I shrug. "I was actually just about to go check on her."

"Okay. Well, I'm just going to go take a shower. Where is it again?" I lead George to the bathroom and he enters, closing the door behind him. It reminds me slightly of when Ben was living with us; I don't know why. I then make my way into the kitchen and fill Bludger's food and water bowl.

"Guess what, Bludger?" I ask quietly, petting him behind the ears. He pays me no attention as he tucks into his dinner. "Oliver and I are getting married. I guess you'll be putting up with me for a little while yet. At least I hope so." He stares at me curiously, licking his lips. I smile at him and pick myself up off of the floor.

Figuring I really should check on Angelina, I head down the hall and knock on her door. "Uh, just wait a minute," I hear her say from the other side.

"It's just me, Ange," I say quickly, knowing that she was probably worried about George seeing her upset.

"Oh," she mutters. "Then come in." I open the door slowly to see Angelina lying on her bed, wrapped in a robe. Her eyes are swollen and it breaks my heart to see her so upset.

"Ange," I sigh, walking over to her side and lying next to her on the bed. I take her head in my hands and hold her as she continues to cry. "Shh, honey."

Her tears show no sign of stopping. Suddenly, a knock sounds on the door. George. I'm about to tell him to hold on a second when the door opens. Angelina is shocked into silence and George, upon seeing the sheer terror on her face is also frozen.

"What is it, George?" I ask politely.

"Oh, uh, where can I get a towel?"

"The closet right outside of the bathroom," I say, taking in his eyes. He's about to start crying—I can see it. As he walks out of the room, I can't help but feel that I'm going to be the one who ends up taking care of both him and Angelina. And Oliver's not even here to take care of me.

When the water starts in the shower, Angelina's tears begin falling faster and she tries to explain to me that she wants to be strong for George, but I can barely make out her words. I rub light circles on her back, but my mind is suddenly filled with things that I shouldn't be thinking about right now.

Is Angelina going to move back into her old flat? Is Alicia? Where's Lee going to live? What about George? And is Charlie going to go back to Romania now that the war is over? Am I still welcome here at Oliver's? I mean, I assume that I am, but what if Oliver's mad at me?

But does he really have any right to be mad at me? I'm upset over Fred's death (at least I think I am; I still can't feel much), that's all.

Angelina eventually falls asleep, but I stay there in her bed, just thinking. George finishes his shower after about two hours, but I still don't move. I just sit there staring at the wall for Merlin knows how long. It is dark outside by the time I finally move back into Oliver and my bedroom.

I lie down and pull the blankets around me. As I close my eyes to try to sleep, grotesque images keep flashing in my mind. Although I am more tired than I've been in my entire life, I feel way too empty to sleep. Fred is gone. Oliver is gone. And I am completely lost.

Barely even thinking about what I am doing, I walk into the bathroom and dig around in the medicine cabinet until I find a Sleeping Drought. I then proceed to down way more than recommended. I barely make it back to the bed before I collapse.

--

My eyes slowly drift open the next morning. It takes a few seconds for the reality of the previous day to register, but when it does it is significantly dulled by the pounding headache I am experiencing. I rub my temples, trying to wash out the pain. That's when I remember the Sleeping Drought from last night. Only I could find a way to get drunk off of a medicinal potion.

I listen for any movement in the rest of the house and don't hear anything, but that really doesn't tell me much. If Angelina and George are awake, they're probably trying to be quiet for my sake.

I slip on a pair of jeans just so I don't look like a complete mess, and re-do my ponytail before stepping out of the room. Sure enough, when I walk into the kitchen I find Angelina and George sitting there, deep in discussion. They look up when I enter and I'm pleased to see Angelina smiling lightly up at me.

"Sleep well?" I ask them, although I know it must have been a rough night for all of us.

"Well enough," George answers. Angelina nods.

"So, what are the plans for today?" I ask, pouring myself a cup of coffee.

"Well, I have to go by my Auntie Muriel's and get Fred and my supplies out of there," George says casually. "We were running that mail order business out of her basement and she owled me this morning saying that there are owls coming in from all over the country asking for some of our fireworks, so I'm going to go sort that out."

"By yourself?" I ask. "That's not easy work—I'd know. I worked for you and Fred for a few weeks remember?"

"You're welcome to come with me," he shrugs. "But I'm just going to warn you that a lot of my family might be over there—it's not going to be a very uplifting get-together."

"That doesn't matter," I say. "You can't do that by yourself."

"If you say so," he replies. "But Ron and Charlie are both going to be there, too."

"I'm coming, George," I demand. He smirks at me in such a way reminiscent of Fred that I feel my breath catch.

"Whatever you say."

"I'm actually going to gather my stuff together today so that I can move back into our old flat," Angelina says. "Oliver sure will be happy, won't he? Alicia's coming home tomorrow."

"What about Lee?" I ask.

"He's going to move into the loft above our shop with me," George says. "At least for a little while. We're going to start hunting for a flat, though. The loft's pretty small." I just nod as I take it all in.

"So, I guess Charlie's leaving, then?"

"Yep. I just owled him this morning. He's heading straight back to Bucharest after the funeral."

The three of us continue to talk about future plans while they finish their scant breakfast of cereal. When they finish, George excuses himself to change so that the two of us can leave. I'm about to leave to do the same when Angelina stops me.

"So, where is Oliver? The two of you didn't have a fight, did you?"

"No, of course not. He just spent the night at Cullen's. He didn't want to impose, you know?"

"Didn't want to impose on his own house?" she asks doubtfully.

"You know what I mean," I whisper softly so that George doesn't overhear. "He just doesn't want George to have to deal with him. I mean, he's upset over Fred's death, but he doesn't know exactly how to express it."

"Katie, that's idiotic. Are you sure that's why?"

"That's what he said," I shrug. Angelina continues to look doubtful, but I excuse myself so that I can change shirts. After I do, I meet George in the living room and he Apparates the both of us to his Auntie Muriel's.

The first thought that strikes me when I see her house is just how different it is from the Burrow. I was expecting something along the same lines, but this house is…beautiful. Not that the Burrow isn't—it definitely is in its own way—but this place reminds me of somewhere that royalty would stay during the summer holidays. George begins making his way to the front door and I run to catch up with him.

"Merlin!" I cry. He laughs at me as I take the mansion in.

"Don't let it fool you," he mutters. "It may be big, but this is no place to live." He pushes the door open without knocking and I immediately see what he means. Although the furnishings are elaborate, there is no evidence that anyone lives in the house at all. It is highly impersonal without any family pictures or items strewn around to make it look lived in. "Told you," he says upon seeing the look on my face. "After Muriel's husband died, she became obsessed with order. _This_ is the result."

We make our way through the entrance hall without anyone stopping us, but we've barely taken two steps into the house before a head of red hair enters out of the next room. Arthur Weasley looks at us curiously.

"George!" he cries, seemingly shocked to see his son. He rushes forward and envelopes him in a hug. George returns it whole-heartedly and I can't help but notice that when they pull apart, both of their eyes are red. I could never be a guy. I can't hold back my emotions that well. "Your mother wasn't expecting you for a few days."

George shrugs. "Muriel owled complaining about the supplies for the joke shop, so I figured I would go ahead and clear out. Who all is here?"

"Your mother and Ginny are in the kitchen with Muriel and Ron and Charlie are upstairs sorting through some of their things."

"Okay, well, I guess Katie and I will go on down to the basement. I've got some shipments that I need to send out, apparently."

"Son," Mr. Weasley says, placing a hand gently on George's shoulder. "I really think that you just need to take a break."

"I'm fine, Dad," he says, shrugging out of his father's embrace.

"Well, you need to go see your mother, nevertheless. She's been worried sick about you. Hasn't slept a wink. I think it would help her."

George sighs in frustration. "Dad…"

"George, do it for your mother." George looks at me pleadingly, but I don't know what to say to help him out of this spot. He really does need to see his mother, even if he isn't looking forward to that reunion.

"Fine," he relents. "Katie, if you want you can go find Charlie upstairs. He can help you get started."

"Actually," Arthur says, stopping me as I move to go up the stairs. "I think Molly would like to see you too."

"Dad, Katie's not going to want to—"

"Yeah, okay," I shrug. "Come on, George." With no retorts left, he has no choice but to follow me into the kitchen. My heart begins beating rapidly because I know that this isn't the type of Weasley family get-together that I'm used to. This one is going to be awkward, painful, and overall uncomfortable. But then again, what are friends for?

The house is quiet as we traverse to the kitchen, but as soon as the door opens, the sounds of grieving strike me down. It seems to surprise George too, because he comes to a crashing halt and refuses to move another inch. I've realized that this is George's whole strategy for dealing with this—just don't cry in front of anyone else and stay away from the people who are.

He shuts the door hastily before running off down the hall. No one in the kitchen seems to have noticed the disturbance. I run after George. I find him sitting on a bed in a back room with his head between his knees, breathing heavily.

"I can't go in there, Katie," he says. The sheer helplessness in his voice takes me by surprise. "Quite frankly, I don't know how you're so calm."

"I honestly don't feel much of anything right now," I admit, taking a seat next to him.

"I don't think that's healthy," he mutters.

"Well, neither is this," I say. He looks up at me curiously. "George, you can't pretend to be strong for them. If you do, they're going to think you're mental. You and Fred were attached at the hip—you're allowed to grieve."

He chokes up a bit, and I pull him to me, comforting him in much the same way that I comforted Angelina last night. "Every time I look in a mirror, I see him," he sobs. "How am I supposed to live like this?"

We sit there for about ten minutes until he's able to stop himself from crying. The image of him so heartbroken will remain with me for years to come, but I don't shed a single tear. What is wrong with me?

We do eventually make our way into the kitchen. Upon seeing us, Mrs. Weasley (who was of course the one crying) does her best to stifle her tears for George's sake, but as soon as he comes running into her arms, they are both crying once more. Ginny is standing off to one side, pale, with her arms wrapped around herself. I stand next to her and she smiles up at me. I can see the redness in her eyes, but her tears seem to be stemming more from others' sadness than from her own. Ginny's a strong girl and, for some unknown reason, I think she's done the best out of her family in accepting this.

I notice Ginny's Auntie Muriel standing off to the side, but she doesn't say anything to me so I pay her little attention. Feeling slightly out of place at this reunion, I excuse myself to find a bathroom. Ginny gives me instructions on where one is, but I'm barely listening.

As soon as I'm out of the kitchen, I simply wander the house for a few minutes. It really is beautiful, if a little eerie.

When I re-enter the kitchen some time later, I'm relieved to find that the majority of the crying has stopped. George is explaining to his mother as to why we are here and she, in turn, is saying that he's working too hard and needs to take a day off.

As he excuses the two of us, I draw to a stop right before the door and turn to his mother. "Mrs. Weasley?" I ask. She looks over at me. "I just wanted to let you know that I will speak at Fred's funeral. If you still need somebody, that is."

Mrs. Weasley opens her mouth to reply, but George beats her to it. "You asked her!?" He cries, and for the first time in a very long time, I can tell that he's angry. "After I specifically told you not to?"

"I certainly did not!" Molly retorts.

"I did," Ginny says shamelessly from the side wall. "It was Katie's choice to make—not yours."

"Katie, don't do this," George groans, turning to me.

"I want to," I reply. "It's what Fred deserves." He looks down at me sadly, shaking his head.

"Fine," he consents. "But you're welcome to change your mind whenever."

"Oh, Katie dear, thank you," Mrs. Weasley gushes, coming forward to give me a hug.

"Katie, why don't you go find Charlie upstairs and get him to help you down in the basement. I need to talk to my mum for a minute."

"Yeah, of course," I reply. I step out of the kitchen and roam the halls for a few minutes until I find the stairs. As I make my way up, I notice that the second floor is easily as big as the first, if a little creepier. "Charlie!" I cry, not raising my voice too much in order not to scare whatever's living in this house. "Charlie!"

A head sticks out of a door down the hall and I immediately recognize Charlie Weasley. "What are you doing here?" he asks as I make my way over to him.

I shrug. "George needed help getting some shipments out before he moves his supplies back to the shop. I volunteered. He said you'd help and to come find you."

"George sent you traversing through Muriel's house alone? That can be dangerous. Well, come on in. I'm just finishing packing my own things." I enter the room after him and find Ron Weasley in there also, sitting on one of the twin beds. His things are already in a small bag sitting next to him.

"Hey," I greet with a small wave.

"Hey," he answers. Charlie continues packing his own bag in silence and I can tell that I interrupted some sort of important conversation that they don't want to have in front of me. They both look relatively decent, although the bags under their eyes tell me that they haven't slept in quite a while. With Mrs. Weasley in the house I have no doubts as to why.

"I'm fine, you know," I say, more to Charlie than to Ron because the Ron that I remember wouldn't care a damn about my feelings. He turns to me in surprise.

"You look fine," he agrees.

"I am fine. And you are free to continue talking about whatever it was you were talking about. I feel out of place enough here as it is."

"Yeah," Charlie agrees. "It was pretty stupid of George to bring you here. No offense or anything."

"None taken."

"So, we're shipping out orders, huh? Come on; I'll take you down to the basement."

"I'm coming too!" Ron cries, jumping off of his bed. "If Mum figures out I'm not doing anything, she's going to ask me to come help her in the kitchen and I just can't take that right now."

The three of us make our way down to the basement and it immediately becomes obvious to me why Auntie Muriel might have had a problem with the twins running their business from down here. Every free inch of floor is covered with boxes—boxes full of Extendable Ears, Skiving Snackboxes, and even cages of Pygmy Puffs. Owls line several shelves at the top of the room and others are constantly flying in and out of the windows, depositing orders; likewise, the floor is a mess. Charlie and Ron seem unfazed by it as they pick up a stack of envelopes from off of the ground.

"There are over two hundred orders here," Charlie groans. "What is George thinking?"

"Most of them are for the Whiz-Bang fireworks," Ron shrugs, shuffling through his own stack. "Everyone wants to celebrate the defeat of You-Know-Who in style."

"Do we even have enough?" Charlie asks, making his way over to a stack of boxes. "As far as I know, Fred and George haven't produced any new products in months."

"There's still some left at the shop," I say with a shrug. "If we need more, then I can go pick them up."

"Okay, well let's do this in an at least least semi-orderly fashion," Charlie says, pushing his sleeves up past his elbows. "Katie, why don't you read the orders and Ron and I will get the supplies. I've been helping them for long enough to know where everything is. You know Fred; there's absolutely no system to this."

The sound of Fred's name dropped into a conversation so casually startles me, but I try to keep my emotions hidden. "Of course," I respond.

For the next few hours, the three of us (joined by George) work to get all of the orders filled and shipped out. That turned out to be the easy part. The hard part was getting everything re-packed so that George could move all of his products back to the shop in Diagon Alley.

I stopped being of much help sometime around three in the afternoon because, as George said, I didn't understand the system. So I instead entertain myself by looking through some of their products. Even though I helped them in their shop for a few weeks, I never really paid much attention to what I was selling. I was looking at some of the Patented Daydream Charms when I hear George talk for nearly the first time all afternoon. I am out of the boys' sight and I honestly think they thought I'd left the room.

"It sucks, you know," George says. "I mean, we just bought that shop in Hogsmeade. I guess it'd be better if I sold that now. It is already fully staffed, though. Seems like a waste."

"I say you keep it," Charlie says.

"Yeah," Ron agrees. "I mean, I can help you get it up and running. It's not like I have anything better to do now."

"I have no clue how I'm going to do this by myself," George admits.

"You're not going to have to," Ron replies. That's all they say, so I go back to my browsing.

"Interested?" I turn around to find George staring down at me. I look at him curiously. "In the charm?" he clarifies. "You want one? Take as many as you want. That's one less thing that I have to transfer."

"What is it?" I ask, standing up from my place on the ground, still holding one of the Patented Daydream Charms.

"Well, honey," he says patronizingly. "It's a Daydream Charm."

"I know that, but what does it do?"

"It basically lets you fantasize about whoever you want in graphic detail. The idiot thing doesn't listen to your requests half the time, though, but people just assume it's their subconscious telling them something. In reality, however, the damn things just have a mind of their own. We never could get that sorted out, but they're pretty popular."

"So, you're basically selling porn," I smirk.

"It's amazing what you can get away with if you stick an 'Above 17 Only' sticker on things. Go ahead; take one," he laughs. "Fred never would have let you."

"You're certainly right about that," I say. I take a Charm out of the box and stick it in my purse, although I honestly have no clue as to why. What the hell am I supposed to do with the thing? George folds the box up when I'm done and shrinks it before stacking it with all of the others.

"Hey, Kates?" he calls. I make my way to the other side of the room.

"Hm?"

"Would you mind terribly packing all of my clothes into my duffle?" George asks.

"Yeah, no problem. Where is your stuff?"

"Over in the corner there," he points and I notice two twin beds for the first time. He then goes back to helping Charlie and Ron with the large cages of Pygmy Puffs.

I walk over to the twins' living area and am able to pack up George's stuff fairly quickly. But that's when I notice Fred's stuff. I take a seat on his bed and, out of respect, begin packing his clothes into his own duffle bag. I have no idea what I'm going to do with them, but I assume Auntie Muriel would have wanted them out of her house sooner or later. And George is definitely in no condition to sort through Fred's _Playwizard_ collection.

I go through the drawers of Fred's bedside table, stuffing everything from magazines to letters into his duffle. I pick up a book on the Falmouth Falcons from his tabletop and, to my surprise, a piece of parchment falls out of it. I pick the parchment up and stare in shock as I see my own name written on the outside. Quickly opening it up, I discover that it is a letter.

It's dated right after the Weasley's were forced to go into hiding and it strikes me that this is probably the letter Fred wanted to send to tell me he was okay, but wasn't able to. After reading the first few lines, however, I can't help but feel that he may have had different reasons for not sending it.

_Katie,_

_Merlin, it's miserable here. I never thought I would be forcibly confined in a house with my Auntie Muriel, but I have to say that it is almost enough to make me turn myself over to Voldemort. (And that was definitely a joke—because I know you'll worry if I don't clarify that.)_

_The thing is, Kates, we need to talk. And now that I'm finally willing to admit that, there is absolutely no way for me to talk to you in private. So I guess this letter is just going to have to do. _

_When I broke up with Angelina, I was serious. And I'm not expecting you to explain that to her by any means—I am still man enough to do my own dirty work—but you need to know it. You need to know it because of what I'm about to say next._

_I think I've gone mad, Katie; utterly and completely mad. Because I've gone and fallen for you. Hard. As in the no-turning-back type of love. _

_I don't know when it happened; I don't know how it happened. But somewhere down the road it happened. And I've been hiding it from you because I don't want to ruin our friendship. I also need you to understand that I'm not writing this to try and ruin your relationship with Oliver. I know that he is better for you than I will ever be. And I know that you're in love with him._

_I just needed to get that off of my chest because it's absolutely killing me to keep it inside. _

_Do you remember that time during your fourth year when I kissed you to make Oliver jealous? That was the most perfect kiss of my life. And I went a little crazy after that kiss, as I'm sure you well-remember. Maybe that's when it started and I just brushed off those feelings as a very strong friendship. I don't know—I really don't._

_It's just that these last few weeks, you're all I've been able to think about. I go to bed with your green eyes locked in my head. I fall asleep and dream about you. When I wake up, you're the first thing that pops into my mind. And I go through my day hoping that I'll see you. Hoping that maybe something will change—I don't know._

_This all sounds kind of stupid on paper, but…I needed to tell you. Because I've always been honest with you and it physically hurts to keep this in the dark._

_I love you, Katie. And I think I always will. I love you. I love you. I love you. And I know I've said that before, but I don't think I've ever truly meant it until now._

_So, I love you, Kates. And please don't hate me._

_Forever Yours,_

_Fred_

I suddenly feel very light-headed and the possibility of me passing out right here on Fred's bed becomes greater and greater. I suck in a deep breath of air and force myself to read the letter one more time. And then another. Each time my heart starts beating faster and I'm left feeling as if I've run across the country.

This can't be happening. Not now. This can't be the last thing I ever hear from Fred. It just can't be.

"Katie, what in the name of Merlin is taking you so long?" George asks, rounding the corner to where the cots are. He stops dead in his tracks. "Where did you get that?" he asks. And judging by the tone of his voice, I know that he knows what I'm reading.

"Why didn't he send it?" I breathe.

"You weren't supposed to read that," George says, taking a step towards me slowly, as if judging how I will react.

"Why didn't he send it?" I repeat.

"He said it was too selfish," George replies. "That you were happy and he wasn't going to ruin that."

"How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you known?"

"I don't know, Katie. The days have just kind of run together."

"Before he broke up with Angelina?" I demand.

"Katie…"

"Answer the question."

"Yes, okay. He started to realize it before he broke up with Angelina."

"Oh my God," I breathe. Before I really register what's happening, my vision begins darkening around the edges and I can no longer make out George's features.

"Katie?" he asks worriedly, but I barely hear him. I feel my heart beating fiercely in my chest, but that's the last thing I remember before everything fades into black.

--

**Okay, so I'm not sure how many people saw that coming. I honestly didn't when I started this story, but it just sort of developed and as I was writing the earlier chapters of this fic, I knew that Fred was going to die thinking he was in love with Katie.**

**Whether he really was is up to the reader, although in my personal opinion, I think he did love her. But I'm going to take a little time to explain their relationship from the start. I've put hints and little pieces of how their relationship began throughout this story, but I'm just going to write the jest of it just to be clear.**

**When Katie began Hogwarts, she knew very little about the Wizarding world. She was raised by her muggle father after her mother died of cancer when she was eight years old (she may actually have been five—I think I've wrote both, but it's one of the two). Katie's father was an aspiring author before Katie's mother died and she worked so that he could stay home and work on his writing. When she died, however, he was forced to work in order to support Katie.**

**He worked two jobs as Katie was growing up and Katie was basically raised by her Dad's widow mother. She was older and died before Katie began Hogwarts. Basically, Katie's grandmother didn't approve of her son's marriage and took this out on Katie. She wasn't exactly mean to her, but she wasn't your typical grandmother either. Her death, needless to say, wasn't too hard on Katie.**

**After that, her father settled on one job working for a law firm that paid decent and was able to be home with Katie in the afternoons. They would eat dinner together, but that was largely the extent of their relationship because he worked nearly every free moment at home.**

**When Katie left for Hogwarts, he got a promotion and things settled down but by then it was too little, too late. Don't get me wrong, Katie's dad loved her very much, but he wasn't around nearly enough.**

**Now, it might be a cliché, but I honestly believe that when a girl's father is not around, she turns her attention to other males in order to get the attention that a father normally provides. Katie just ended up getting lucky when she chose Fred.**

**Fred and she met shortly after she started school. He thought she was pretty and was, therefore, worthy of his attention. In fact, she was friends with Fred nearly a year before she was friends with Angelina and Alicia. He helped her learn how to play Quidditch her first year and she had an enormous crush on him. The crush quickly faded, however, and they were simply friends.**

**Fred saw that she was broken in a lot of ways and made it his goal to fix her and to keep her safe. She actually came around at just the right time because if she'd sought him out only a few years later, their relationship wouldn't have been nearly the cathartic one that it developed into. I'm not going to lie; Fred probably would have taken advantage of her during his hormonal teen years if he hadn't grown so attached to her when he was young.**

**Fred's feelings for Katie slowly began to change, however, especially when she finally got together with Oliver during her fourth year. Fred was nearly insane at the thought of her with him and for a while he just assumed it was because Oliver wasn't good enough for her, but the truth slowly began to come to him—he was jealous. And Oliver actually understood this. That's why Fred and Oliver really never got along; they were hung up over the same girl.**

**Not knowing why he was feeling that way, Fred did the only thing he knew how to do—he transferred his affections elsewhere and that is how the Fred/Angelina relationship was born. This satisfied him for several years and he began to believe once more that Katie was simply his best friend.**

**But as the war grew worse and worse, he began worrying about her more and more, and he eventually was unable to pass his feelings off as brotherly affection. And, quite frankly, he didn't want to.**

**He realized that he was in love with Katie, but he also realized that nothing could ever come of it. He had waited until too late and knew that he was just going to have to live the rest of his life without her.**

**Because of this, he was very reckless in the Final Battle. Although his death was purely an accident, the idea of death didn't bother him because he was finding it almost impossible to live inside of himself.**

**He died a very confused man, never truly knowing if he loved Katie or if it was just a strong friendship that he had built up in his head.**

**Katie, however, has not had romantic feelings for Fred since her first year.**

**The note that she found in this chapter is going to cause some turmoil between her and Oliver, so that's something to look for in the upcoming chapters. The next chapter is the funeral and after that, there's going to be a time lapse of a few months because Katie's going to be pretty upset and monotone for a while so I'm not going to spend 10 chapters talking about those first few months.**

**Review, please. And I'll update soon. Promise.**


	35. Reflection

_--_

_Reflection:_

The sound of a loud bang awakes me. I sit straight up in bed, heart beating wildly, but it only takes me a second to locate the source of the disturbance. My wand lets out another volley of sparks in order to make sure I'm awake and I silently say the spell to turn it off. Once the flat grows silent once more, I lie back in my bed, pulling the covers up to my chin.

Today is the day. Today is Fred Weasley's funeral.

And on this day—the day that is possibly going to be the worst of my life—I'm forced to set my wand in order to wake up on time. I haven't had to do that in months. It might sound fickle, but Oliver's always been here to wake me up when I needed to be up. But Oliver's not here, so I guess I'm just going to have to suffice on my own.

I doubt he even knows the funeral's today. And I'm sure that he doesn't know Angelina and George both moved into their respective living arrangements two days ago, or he would be here in a second. I can almost guarantee that he wouldn't agree with the idea of me living alone in my current condition. Not that I have a condition, mind you, because I think I'm handling this whole situation extremely well. I just can't work up the courage to tell him to come home, because I don't deserve Oliver right now. Not when my emotions are so damn confusing.

The funeral is not until noon, but I know that I won't be able to go back to sleep so I lift myself out of bed and make my way into the bathroom. I bathe quickly, more to wake me up than anything else. When I step out of the shower, I quickly dry and straighten my hair using my wand. Angelina always did tell me I looked more professional with my hair straightened. I'm not completely sure that I agree with that, but I don't feel like thinking for myself this morning.

I even take the time to do my make-up; I normally don't bother with more than a little mascara, but Fred would want me to look pretty today. I think. Then again, I can never really know that for sure now, can I? There's actually not much about Fred that I can know for sure anymore…

I pull a black dress out of my closet and slip it over my head. I don't think I've ever worn it before, but then again I guess it's good that I'm not attached to it. I doubt I'll be able to wear it again after today.

I finish all of my prepping and look into the mirror. I'm surprised to find that I actually look pretty good considering. George has been claiming for days that I look much better than I should, but I really can't help it. After that first day, the tears never came back. I don't know why, but I can't seem to make them resurface.

I look at my watch on the bedside table and find that it's only seven. I'm not even supposed to be at the church until eleven. Why do I always have this problem when I wake myself up for anything? I'm either ready too early, or too late.

Technically, I have a choice of funerals that I could go to today. Shacklebolt has named today a day of remembrance for all of the fallen. I know for a fact that the Lupins' service is this morning and that the Weasleys are there now. But to be completely honest, I didn't know them that well and I would feel like I was imposing by showing up now.

I look at my watch again but the time hasn't changed. I run my hands through my hair in frustration.

Is going back to sleep an option?

I quickly brush that thought off because I'm not tired. It's honestly a miracle that I slept as long as I did last night. I pull a stack of parchment out of my purse and look over it; it's for the eulogy.

I knew it would be pointless to write anything out, but I took some time to prepare last night anyway. I've never been great at public speaking and I know from experience that I tend to forget my notes and just talk from memory. Or drop the notes…McGonagall can vouch for that. Her oral presentations nearly killed me at Hogwarts.

Merlin, how am I going to get through this?!

After I found that note from Fred, George tried to calm me down but it didn't help. He didn't bother explaining to his brothers why I'd passed out, and I'm very glad for that. It's bad enough that _I'm_ going to spend the rest of my life thinking about Fred differently; they shouldn't have to. George just brushed off my unwillingness to listen to him and instead told me that we'd talk about it when I was ready. But am I ever going to be ready?

How could Fred Weasley have been in love with me? Isn't that something I would have noticed? Maybe he was just mistaking! Merlin knows that that boy is wrong more than he is right…or _was_ right. I guess I have to talk about him in the past tense now.

But did_ I_ love him? Is there even a remote possibility that Fred was the right guy for me and I just never realized it? I bury my head in my hands. I just don't have an answer to that. Not now, and probably not anytime soon either.

I glance at my watch once more and groan at its lack of movement. Without entirely thinking my plan through, I grab my purse off of the bed and Disapparate to Hogsmeade.

People are already milling about—everyone's been spending more time out of their houses now that the War is over—but I pay little attention to the families wandering the streets. I'm not naïve enough to pretend not to know why I chose to Apparate here. Cullen and Leanne's house is just down the street, which means Oliver is only a few blocks away from me.

And I'd be lying through my teeth if I said I didn't need to see him—didn't want to see him. Because I do. And I don't think I'm going to be able to make it through this day without seeing him first.

Leanne and Cullen's house looks exactly the same as I remember it. I've been a horrible friend to them lately. Ever since they got married, I've barely seen them at all. I guess it's not entirely my fault, but Leanne's baby is due in about a month and I haven't even seen her since she's started to show. Merlin, I'm horrible.

I begin thinking that maybe they wouldn't appreciate me showing up now, and I pause before knocking on the door. It _is_ early, and I doubt that anyone would take kindly to me waking them up unannounced. I pause with my fist raised, but can't think of a legitimate excuse not to bring it down. It's not like we've had a falling out or anything and I really do want to see Oliver.

I tap lightly on the door three times, promising myself that if no one answers I will just leave. I wait a minute before knocking thrice more. This time I hear movement from the other side of the door and breathe a sigh of relief.

When the door is pulled open, it is Leanne that's standing on the other side and I can feel my mouth gape. "Oh my God," I say, laughing for the first time in days. "You're pregnant!"

She rolls her eyes, but ushers me into the house. "Nice to see you too, Katie." I take a good look at her protruding stomach and even though she's bigger than I've ever seen her, she looks beautiful—she looks happy.

"I've been such a horrible friend," I moan, making my way over to hug her. She hugs me back.

"Katie, you have not," she assures me. "Things have just been busy for all of us."

"Well, is it a girl or a boy?" I ask, unable to resist placing my hand on her stomach. She laughs at me lightly.

"We don't know yet," she responds. "I want it to be a surprise." She looks up at me and smiles.

"Well, you look great," I say, trying to gather my thoughts together.

"Doesn't she, though?" Cullen asks, coming into the room and wrapping his arms around her stomach. She smiles up at him and I swear that they forget I'm in the room for a second. "But I suppose you're here to see Oliver, yeah?"

"Yeah," I agree.

"He's probably still asleep," Cullen shrugs, "but he's staying in the guest room if you want to check."

"Thank you," I say and turn towards the room he points out.

"Katie?" Leanne asks before I make it half way there. "Is the funeral today?" I only nod because I know that my clothing gives it away. "Does Oliver know that?"

"I don't think so," I mutter. I turn to look at her and she nods before I push open the door to Oliver's room. Just like Cullen said he would be, Oliver is fast asleep. What I wouldn't give to be able to sleep through the night!

I shut the door behind me, even though I really don't know why. The little light that was being allowed into the room diminishes to nothing and I'm left standing in the dark. It doesn't bother me, however, because I feel Oliver's presence—the very thing I've been craving for days.

Before I can stop myself, I'm standing next to his bed and staring down at him. The first thing I notice is that he's reverted to his old habit of sleeping without a shirt on. He stopped doing that when we started sharing a bed. I much prefer him this way. From the scant sliver of light being allowed in through the window, I notice that his arm is draped onto the empty spot on the bed next to him, as if expecting someone to be there. I can't help but grin. I lift his arm up slightly and crawl into bed next to him.

He groans a little bit at being moved, but doesn't wake up. Instead, he pulls me closer to him and I just allow him to draw me nearer until my head is resting in the crook of his shoulder. I slowly feel him begin to wake up, but he doesn't push me away. His hands start to draw circles on my back and all I want to do is drift off to sleep with him right here next to me.

"Katie," he mutters after a few minutes. "Why are you here?"

"I can leave if you want me to," I reply.

"Why would I want you to leave," he asks. His eyes open and take in the sight of me next to him. He kisses my forehead and then my lips. The feel of his lips on mine after days of their absence takes my breath away. He continues kissing me gently and all of the bad things that have happened these past few days begin to drift out of my mind. It's amazing what a simple kiss can do to me. "Do Angelina and George know you're here?" he asks softly. "Because I don't want them to wake up and freak out."

"No, but they both moved back into their own flats two days ago, so—"

"What?" Oliver asks, sitting up in bed suddenly. I pick myself up also. I had hoped we wouldn't have to discuss this.

"Angelina and George moved—"

"You mean to tell me that you've been all alone in my flat for two days and you didn't even bother to tell me?" I can tell that he's more worried than angry, but I still feel guilty.

"You said that you didn't want to see me," I argue. "I just figured…"

"Katie," he groans, pulling me to him. "I never said that." I just let him hold me as he apologizes over and over again. "That's not what I meant. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I answer, pulling away from him. It's only then that he notices my attire.

"You're all dressed up," he says. I shrug. "The funeral's today, isn't it?" I just nod. "Okay, well just give me a few minutes to get dressed and we can go together."

"Oliver, no," I say, pulling away from him slightly. "You don't want to go—that's not why I'm here. I just wanted to see you beforehand."

"No, Kates, I'm going. And you're going to wrinkle that dress if you stay in my bed." I can't help but smirk as I climb out of his bed after him. Go figure that my boyfriend would know more about wrinkling clothes than I do.

He begins rummaging through his closet, looking for something to wear, but I just can't stay away. I walk up behind him and place my arms around his waist, kissing his back lightly. He turns to me with a grin. When his lips meet mine, I'm almost surprised at the urgency. I back up until I'm against the wall and he continues to pull me closer.

It's the closest I've felt to him in days and it takes all of my will power not to just stay this way for hours. After a few minutes, however, guilt forces me to pull away.

"Oliver," I say. He doesn't answer, but instead begins placing kisses on my collar bone and jaw line. "Oliver, stop," I repeat. He pulls back and looks at me worriedly.

"What's wrong?" he asks. I close my eyes and fight with myself for a second, but I know that I have to show him that letter from Fred. If I don't, I fear that nothing will ever be the same between us again. I'm not going to lie to him now and face the fall out later. If this is going to be the worst day of my life anyway, I might as well make sure that no other day is ever going to top it. Without any explanation, I walk over to my purse and pull out the folded letter that I found in Fred's book. I hand it to Oliver. "Katie, what is this?"

"Just read it," I shrug. He looks at me curiously, but unfolds the letter nonetheless. "This isn't your handwriting," he notes. And that's when he starts to read.

About halfway through the letter, he turns away from me and I am unable to read his expressions. Not that I've ever been good at that anyways. I take a seat on the bed and just wait. He reads the letter through once and turns back to me but before he can say anything, he turns back to the letter and re-reads it.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out he's just as surprised by it as I was.

"How long have you had this?" he asks quietly. It's only then that I realize what this must look like—like I've been keeping this a secret from him for months.

"I just found it," I explain hastily. "I was helping George pack up some of Fred's stuff and it was just there."

"He never sent this to you?" Oliver clarifies. I shake my head. I can almost see the thoughts flashing across Oliver's face, but he doesn't allow any of them to come out of his mouth. I'm sure that there's a lot he wants to say, he's just not certain of how bitter he can be at the moment—what with Fred being dead and all.

"Why are you showing me this?" he asks after several long seconds of silence. I shrug even though he's still facing away from me.

"I just thought that you should know," I say.

"Did you love him?" he asks bluntly. The question takes me by surprise, but not as much as the hard gaze in Oliver's eyes as he turns to look over at me. As his dark brown eyes meet my green ones, everything I had prepared to tell him slips from my mind. I'm not used to him being so direct, especially not about Fred's and my relationship.

"I love _you_, Oliver," I say simply, knowing full well that that doesn't answer his question.

"But did you love him?" he asks again. The rush of emotions that comes racing at me stuns my mouth into silence. I feel tears welling up in my eyes for the first time in days. Tears that have nothing to do with Fred's death.

"I don't know," I admit, looking broken-hearted into his eyes. "I can't think about that right now. All I know is that I love you, Oliver. You! You have to believe that."

He walks over to me and pulls me into a tight hug, but I can tell that it's the last thing he wants to do at this moment. In his eyes, all he sees is me crying over Fred. I don't bother to correct him because it would probably kill him to know that I'm crying over us—over the fear that even after his death Fred is going to be able to interfere in our relationship.

"Just let me change," Oliver mutters after a few minutes, "and I'll go to the funeral with you." I don't argue because I know that he's not about to let me out of his sight, but I can't help but wonder if me coming here was such a good idea after all.

--

When we enter the church just outside of Ottery St. Catchpole, I'm automatically seized with fear. I'm not normally the type to get paralyzingly nervous, but I guess there's always an exception to every rule. The church is nearly empty, but that's no more than I was expecting this early. Even the Weasleys are probably still at the Lupins' funeral.

I clutch Oliver's hand in mine tightly as I scan the entrance way. When I don't see any familiar faces, I move to the double doors leading into the sanctuary. I look through the narrow windows and my breath catches. The first thing in my line of sight is an open coffin. I can't see inside, but I know who's in it.

"Are you okay?" Oliver asks for what seems like the millionth time.

"I'm fine," I breath.

"You don't look fine," he mutters, but he doesn't push it. Instead, he peeks through the window with me. "George and Angelina are in there," he states. I turn my gaze to the side of the room and notice that the two of them are sitting next to each other along one of the back walls.

I squeeze his hand tightly before opening the door and entering the room. I know even before turning around to make sure, that Oliver won't follow me. I'm right.

Angelina and George look up when I enter, and smile lightly without getting up. Traversing around the very edges of the room so as not to have to see in the coffin, I make my way over to the pew that the two of them are sharing.

"I dropped by your house this morning," George says when I take a seat. "You weren't there."

"I stopped by Leanne's," I state simply. That seems to be enough explanation for him.

"So Oliver's here?" he questions. I nod. "I need to talk to him." I look up curiously, but he gives no indication of what he needs to speak with Oliver about.

"He's out in the lobby," I shrug.

"Well then, if you ladies would excuse me for a few minutes." I watch as he walks out of the room, leaving Angelina and I sitting in silence before curiosity gets the best of me.

"What's he need to talk to Oliver about?" I ask Angelina. She looks over at me and shrugs. "Are you doing okay?" I ask her. It's odd for her to be this quiet.

"I'm fine," she says. "I'm just…I have way too much on my mind right now." I revert my gaze to where George exited the room a minute before.

"I want to know what he has to talk to Oliver about," I say, standing up from my seat.

"Katie, stop it," she demands, immediately following after me as I make my way out of the room. "Just give them some privacy."

"Do you know what they're talking about?" I ask again.

"No—and there's probably a reason for that. Just let them be!"

"No," I mutter, pushing through the double doors back into the lobby. Angelina groans from behind me, but I'm sure her curiosity is just as strong as mine— I learned it from her after all.

There are several ushers standing at the front door by this point and they seem surprised to see us coming out of the sanctuary.

"Excuse me?" I ask politely. One of the men turns to me. "Have you seen two guys about our age wandering around here? One looks exactly like the dead guy." Angelina gasps at my audacity from next to me, but I'm far from caring. The man points warily around the corner. I thank him and head in that direction.

"Katie," Angelina scolds, still following behind me. "What is wrong with you? You've been acting completely mad for days!"

"What are you talking about, Ange?" I ask, looking into rooms as we pass by.

"I'm talking about the fact that you don't even seem fazed by Fred's death!" I come to a dead halt in the middle of the hallway, taking her by surprise. She runs into the back of me and I turn to her in shock.

"You think I don't care that he died?" I ask, anger already making its way into my voice.

"Katie, that's not what I'm—"

"Because I do, you know? Merlin, just leave me alone! I can't deal with this right now."

"Katie!"

"Get away from me, Angelina!" I cry as she tries to grab my arm. She looks at me sadly, but doesn't try to stop me again. I turn on my heels and make way down the hall, still trying to find either Oliver or George.

I'm far from caring what they're talking about anymore; I just need something to do. When I do hear their voices coming out of a nearby room, I stop dead in my tracks. I'm about to go barging in when I hear my name.

"So Katie's been like this for days?" I hear Oliver ask. My heart leaps into my throat. I've been like what for days?

"I think it's just how she deals with things," George replies. "But I thought I'd let you know. I haven't seen her cry since Hogwarts and she just keeps going on as if nothing's happened. My mum's really worried about her."

"Your mum?"

"Well, that's how my mum deals with her pain—focusing on others'. I just…Katie's scaring me, Oliver. She'll open up for a few seconds, but then it's just blank. I've been going over there for meals, trying to make sure she's eating, but even with me there she barely touches anything."

"Have you tried just talking to her about it?"

"Every time I bring up the Battle or Fred or anything, she changes the subject. There's only so much that I can do. It's killing me to see her like this, but I'm not Fred. I don't know how to handle her."

I hear Oliver groan and the springs of a sofa being pressed down, as if he's taking a seat. "She doesn't look good," Oliver finally says. "I thought that maybe she was just trying to hold it in for me, but…"

"No, it's everyone. I don't know if she's letting it out when it's just her, but I somehow doubt it. Oliver, she needs help."

"Yeah," he agrees. "But is there any chance that this could just be the after effects of that letter. Maybe she's mad…"

"She was like this even before she found that letter, although I'm not about to say it didn't make it worse. She's become so callous. I just…I'm worried about her, is all. I'm scared she's keeping it all locked up inside and soon she's going to just bust."

I hear the two men get up from their seats and I quickly make my way out of the vicinity and into a nearby bathroom, not completely registering what I'd just heard. George must be completely crazy! I've been handling this better than I could have ever imagined. Just because I haven't let other people see how upset I am…

I step in front of one of the mirrors and take a good look at myself. I think about George's words and try to remember the last time I've eaten, but I can't recall. I know he came over for dinner last night with takeaway…but I wasn't very hungry. My cheeks look hollow as I take in my reflection.

Although I look relatively put together with my hair and my makeup done, I can now see the blank look in my eyes. And it scares me.

Maybe George's right. Maybe Angelina's right. Maybe I have completely shut down. But there was only ever one person that was able to make me feel better at times like this. And that person is the one lying in a coffin in this very building.

As the reality of that fact hits me, I collapse to the ground. My knees fold underneath me and wracking sobs cover my entire body until I lose all sense of where I am.

Vivid images begin to flash back at me, but this time they're not of Fred's death. They are instead of my own mother's years before. The sense of loss that I'd felt over losing her. The crippling enigma that hung over me for years afterwards. It's only then that I remember what helped me heal from her death. Fred.

Fred stitched me back together in ways that I never knew someone would be able to when he first met me. And he never even met my mum! But who is supposed to stitch me back together now?

I don't know how long I stayed in that bathroom, just allowing the tears to flow, but it must have been long enough for someone to get worried because when Angelina joins me on the floor, I immediately hold on to her as if she is my lifeline. And in some ways, I guess she is.

When I finally stop crying, a sense of shame at displaying such a loss of emotions washes over me, but Angelina just brushes off my apologies and my tears. "Katie, don't you understand? _This_ is natural—what you were doing before…that isn't." I smile up at her, and I have to admit that I do feel better. I know that it's going to be a long journey, but maybe with people like Angelina by my side, I'll make it through this as a stronger person.

She helps me up off of the floor and immediately sets to righting my makeup and my hair. When I look at my reflection in the mirror this time, I can't help but notice that my eyes don't look so hollow.

--

I'm greeted by a large cluster of Weasleys in the Entrance Hall when I make my way back to the sanctuary. Mrs. Weasley is the first to catch sight of me and she halts her conversation with her daughter-in-law, Fleur, in order to once again thank me for volunteering to speak. I brush her gratitude off as George makes his way over.

His family is being ushered into a back room in order to speak with the minister, but he falls behind. "Katie, listen, I just want to thank you again for doing this. I know that it's—" Before he can say another word, I hug him tightly. He hugs me back.

"No, thank _you_, George," I say. He pulls back, a look of cluelessness evident in his eyes, but doesn't ask any questions. Him and Fred are a lot alike in that manner.

"Oh, um...okay. Well, the usher came by asking who was speaking first and I assumed you wouldn't want that job, so I gave it to Lee. You're second; Harry's third. I don't think anyone's going to be able to follow Harry, anyway. He's like a demigod now." I just nod my understanding. "And I think you're supposed to sit up front. I'm not sure about that, though, so find Lee. I should probably go. But good luck, Katie." I give him a small wave as he disappears.

Looking around the entrance hall, I notice that it's very nearly empty and the clock on the wall informs me that the service is about to start. I make my way into the sanctuary, looking desperately for a familiar face. I spot Angelina and Alicia sitting with Oliver on a row near the back. Although the girls don't notice me, Oliver does. He smiles at me lightly before pointing to the front of the room where Lee's sitting and conversing with Harry Potter. I nod my gratitude towards Oliver and make my way over to the pair.

It's only as I get closer that I notice Harry is holding a small child with wild blue hair in his arms. And even though this is my best friend's funeral, I'm honestly curious.

"Hey, Kates," Lee greets as I take the seat in between him and Harry. Harry smiles up at me, but he seems a bit distracted making sure the baby is supported well enough in his arms.

"Hey," I greet Lee distractedly as I look down at the sleeping child. I can't help the grin that springs to my face. I never really thought I would be one to like kids, but he's just so darn cute! "And who is this?" I ask.

"Teddy Lupin," Harry answers. "My godson. His grandmum's around here somewhere, but he just stopped crying and I really don't want to wake him." I look down at the baby sadly—this is the kid who just lost both of his parents to You-Know-Who.

I sit there and watch him for a few seconds and nearly fall out of my seat as his hair changes quickly from blue to red and then back to blue. I look up to Harry questioningly.

"Tonks was a Metamorphmagus," he shrugs. "His hair changes when he dreams." I smile at Harry and then down at the baby once more. Maybe there is hope for a better life out there. Maybe Fred's death was just one of the stepping stones it took to get here. This kid—this Teddy Lupin—is going to grow up in a world that doesn't have to worry about You-Know-Who lurking around the corner. Maybe he's luckier than any of us realize.

Teddy's grandmother comes over and removes him seconds later, just in time for the service to start. I've never been to many wizarding funerals before—actually, I've only ever been to Dumbledore's—but I imagine that they all follow much the same pattern. Surprisingly, it's also much the same pattern that I remember from my mum's.

The Weasleys are ushered in and everyone stands as they enter. Once they're settled and we take our seats, some people from the church speak and some hymns are sung. I'm barely paying attention, however. My eyes keep getting distracted by the coffin at the front of the room. It's been closed now, thank Merlin, but I know who lies on the other side of that lid and it freaks me out just a little bit.

As the benedictions are read, I turn my attention to the Weasleys and take them in one by one. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are holding hands and not even trying to contain their tears. Molly is continually dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief and looking to the front of the room with reverence. I imagine she never dreamed she'd be alive to see one of her children buried. Arthur pats her hand reassuringly, but he's not doing any better at containing his own emotions—the tears run unstopped down his face.

Bill and Fleur sit next to them, their hands also interlocked. They make a regal pair. Bill's eyes stay locked on the front of the room, betraying no emotions, but his gaze never flickers and I highly doubt he's listening to anything anyone is saying.

Charlie sits next to them, his elbows resting on his knees as he leans forward. He keeps running his hands through his hair to keep it out of his eyes, but I don't think he notices that he's doing it. He also seems to have a habit of cringing after every few words that are spoken, as if they are physically causing him pain.

Percy isn't even pretending to listen, but is instead staring blackly off at a side wall. George told me yesterday that Percy hasn't really been the same since Fred died. He was the one with him just before it happened and he blames himself for not protecting his younger brother. Actually, George said that was something that was bothering Bill, too. They are the older siblings; their job is to watch out for the younger ones. Even though there was nothing any of them could have done different, guilt hangs over them.

Ron's sitting next to Percy, still looking a bit shell-shocked over everything. He's watching the proceedings with wide eyes as if it's something new and magical to him. He nods occasionally in agreement with something the minister is saying, but I'm not completely convinced he's listening.

Ginny sits next to him, looking as strong as ever. She's twirling a strand of hair around her finger nervously, but other than that, she looks fine. She does keep glancing over at George, though, and when my attention turns to him, I have no doubt as to why.

George looks thoroughly lost sitting there amongst his family. Even from this distance, I can see the tears building up in his eyes and it breaks my heart to watch. Like Percy, he's not even bothering to listen, but is wringing his hands together, as if wondering when this torturous ceremony is going to be over. Looking at him there, he almost looks out of place without Fred sitting beside him and it strikes me that I've never seen just George with his family before. It's always been Fred _and_ George. And I have no doubt that he feels it too. He's an outsider in his own family, not sure how to react without his other half there.

When it's Lee's turn to speak, I try to listen, I really do. But I know that if I pay too close attention, I'll fall apart and I really can't do that before I'm supposed to go up and speak. Lee has a way of demanding people's attention—I mean, he _does_ do this for a living—so I have no real expectations of being 'better' than him. I just want to get this over with. Knowing that I'm up next sets my heart beating wildly throughout Lee's eulogy, but it's strangely not an unwelcome feeling. At least I'm feeling something.

And then Lee steps down from the stage and I realize that it is my turn to speak.

I almost feel as if I'm marching to the gallows as I make my way onto the platform. I mentioned before that I'm not good at public speaking—I wasn't lying. I have my notes with me, but I know I'm not going to be able to use them. I've probably forgotten how to read anyway.

"Um, hi," I start awkwardly, scanning the faces of the people present. I quickly find that that does nothing to help my nerves, so I revert to staring into space. "I'm...uh, Katie Bell." I look down at the coffin in front of me and almost lose it. I can't do this. Somehow, my eyes find George's in the crowd and he smiles up at me lightly. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, separating myself from the situation for the briefest of moments. I have to do this.

"What is there to say about Fred Weasley?" I ask. "Well, he's probably the only person that could put me through the torture of public speaking even from the grave." There's scattered laughter throughout the room and I look up in surprise before continuing. "He was my best friend. Anyone who's ever been exposed to him—or his products, for that matter—knows what kind of person he was. He was a…free spirit. He…he loved life and didn't let the little things get him down.

"He always _had_ to be the center of attention. I guess that probably has something to do with having six other brothers and sisters." I glance briefly over at the Weasley family and lock eyes with Mrs. Weasley for the briefest of seconds. "But there was a side of Fred that so few people knew. He was the most determined person I've ever met. I mean, just the legacy that he's left behind through his shop—it's amazing. But he was there for me _so_ many times. I've realized that this past week. There were so many times in my life that I wasn't sure how I was going to ever make it through—and he was there during all of them. And…I never got to thank him for that, you know?" I pause as my voice cracks.

"It just… it seems unreal, really. That he's not here anymore. That he's never going to Apparate over to my flat at ungodly hours of the night and day to wake me up and talk about what happened to him at work. That he's…that he's never going to be there to see me get married. Not that he'd believe any bloke was good enough anyway." A small chuckle escapes me. "I just can't believe that he's not here to see the end of it all. Can you imagine how much fun he'd be having? Celebrating with all of us the start of a new era?

"Fred was the most caring, decent, all-around wonderful person that I've ever met in my life—although I'm sure he would deny all of that. He was everything to me. He was…he was a lot to a lot of people. He was…special. He may have only been on this earth for twenty short years, but he was able to make an impact on people's lives—and that's something that some never do. He made it his goal to have everyone in a room smiling, no matter how somber the occasion. Because life is too short to mourn for long.

"I don't think he'd appreciate me standing up here and crying over him, because that's not the person he was. It's not exactly stopping me, though, is it?" I say, wiping the tears that I do, in fact, feel flowing down my cheeks. "I guess what I'm trying to say is…I would never be the person I am today without Fred. He shaped me into who I am. He made me appreciate life and everything in it. And now, he's turned me out on my own just in time for me to be faced with my biggest challenge yet—getting over him. But that's always how he did things. He let you figure out the hard stuff on your own, because how else would you learn?

"I'm thankful for a lot of things as I stand up here. I'm thankful that our world is finally starting to piece itself back together. I'm thankful that all of you are sitting out there today, alive and well. But I'm mostly thankful for the man lying in this coffin in front of me. Because he's changed my life—he really has. And I know that if I'd never met him, I'd be worse off for it.

"So, thank you, Fred Weasley. And just know that I will never, as long as I live, forget you."

--

I have half a mind not to go to the graveside ceremony at all. Just the thought of seeing Fred being interred for all eternity makes my blood run cold. I Apparate there with the rest of them, but it almost isn't worth the bother because I am situated so far from the minister that I can't hear a word of what he is saying as the coffin is lowered into the ground. I purposefully don't watch that part.

I do watch as George stands up from his seat in order to throw the first clump of dirt over the wooden box. Each of his brothers follow suit and at that point, I can't stop myself from crying any longer. I'm standing by myself, but I wrap by arms around my chest tightly, trying to contain my emotions.

Suddenly, arms close around me and I turn to find Oliver there. I bury my head into his chest, just glad that he's there to hold me. He rubs by back soothingly and I allow my tears to soak his shirt. Somehow even in my distress I know how much it must be hurting him to see me this distraught over another guy. But I also know that if he hadn't chosen to come with me today, our relationship would never have gotten over it. I needed him here and because of that need, he came. And I love him for that.

People begin to leave the cemetery and it strikes me that it must finally be over. I pull away from Oliver, knowing that I must look like a mess, but he doesn't say anything. Angelina walks over a few seconds later, her face stained with tears and Oliver turns me over to her, promising me that he will be at home when I get there.

Several families linger, trying to talk to the Weasleys before they leave, and George is forced to make conversation with all of them. Alicia and Lee walk over to us, but upon seeing the wait to talk to the Weasleys, they excuse themselves. Angelina insists on talking to George, however, and I don't argue with her.

We stand over to the side for nearly an hour before almost everyone is gone. George catches sight of us and we walk over, breezing past the few remaining guests to hug him tightly. I hear his ragged breath in my ear as we embrace him together.

"Thank you for coming," he says upon pulling away. "And Katie, you did magnificent. Thank you."

"Of course," I respond. Feeling I should give my condolences to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I excuse myself and walk over to the pair. They are still talking to someone from the Ministry, however, so I stand off to the side and wait, glancing briefly at the clump of Weasley siblings standing just a bit away from them.

Ron and Ginny stand together with Harry and Hermione, talking amongst themselves. I can't help but notice the wary glances that they continue to throw in George's direction. Looking at him now, he actually looks like he's going to be able to get through this. Him and Angelina are laughing together, at least, which I think is a good sign.

"Katie, dear!" I turn but am immediately embraced by Mrs. Weasley, still clutching her handkerchief. "Oh, honey, thank you so much for speaking today. I know Fred would have been honored."

"Thank you," I say in response. "I just…I just wanted to let you know how very sorry I am. He was…he was an amazing man, and I'm sure you're part of the reason for that." Molly smiles up at me, tears brimming from her eyes.

"That means a lot to me," she says. Mr. Weasley hugs me also and I smile at the both of them before they are interrupted by someone else wanting to offer their regrets. I turn to walk back over to George and Angelina, but Charlie catches sight of me and waves. I wave back as he steps over.

"So, I suppose you're going back to Romania, now?" I ask, although I already know the answer. He nods.

"Listen, Katie, I just wanted to say that I've really enjoyed getting to know you these past few months." I feel my cheeks darkening.

"You're definitely a character, Charlie Weasley," I laugh.

"I take it that's a good thing?"

"Yeah, it is."

"Bye, Katie," he smirks.

"Bye, Charlie," I respond, and I know in that moment that the chances of me ever seeing him again are very slim.

The Weasleys eventually begin Disapparating, but a strange yearning to see the grave keeps me in place. Thinking I'm alone, I make my way over for my last few moments with my best friend.

I kneel to read his gravestone: "He that endureth to the end shall be saved."

"It's weird, isn't it?" I hear a voice say from behind me. I don't even have to look up to know that George is standing there.

"Feels unreal," I agree. I turn to find him offering me his hand. I take it and pick myself up off of the ground. It's only then that I notice George has a box of something in his hands. "What is that?" I ask warily, although I've already glimpsed the product name.

George shrugs. "Just some Whiz-bang Fireworks."

"That's what I thought," I smirk.

"So, what do you say?" he asks. And although the sun has just barely begun to set, when George lights the package, the fireworks are the most beautiful ones that I have ever witnessed. We stand there together next to Fred's grave until every last one is gone.

--

It's late by the time I make my way home. As soon as I'm in the flat, Oliver insists that I eat and I follow him into the kitchen without question. He talks way more than I'm used to as he busies himself with putting something into the oven, but I'm not really listening. I can tell by his nervous attitude that he knows what's coming.

We both do.

I made the decision on my way here, and I'm resolute. Oliver and I simply can't be together right now. I don't know how long it's going to take me to get over Fred's death, but I do know that at this moment, Oliver doesn't need to be around me. The arrangements have already been made.

"Oliver…" I interrupt him.

"—and Ben was saying something about coming over tomorrow, so maybe—"

"Oliver," I insist. He turns to me wearily. "I think we need to take a break." He stops what he's doing and takes a seat at the table next to me. Just as I'd suspected, he doesn't look surprised.

"Are you sure?" he asks. "Katie, I know I've been completely unsupportive, but the funeral's over. It can only go up from here and I can help you through it…"

"I know you can," I say. "I have no doubt that you can. But you shouldn't have to. I talked to Angelina—I'm going to move back in with her and Alicia. At least for a little." He nods distractedly from next to me. "This isn't a breakup, Oliver. It really isn't. I just need some time." He nods again.

"What about the engagement?" he asks, taking my hand in his and fumbling with the ring around my finger.

"Postponed," I say. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"I do," he nods.

"And do you understand why I have to do this?"

"I do." We sit there together and eat quietly. I don't know what is going to come of this, but I do know that it's going to be better for the both of us. As the night continues to get darker, I can't help but wonder about the dawn. Things are changing and I'm just along for the ride.

--

**I hoped this lived up to expectations—it was incredibly hard to write. Review, please.**


	36. One Month Later

**I know this update was slower than the others, but one of my friends turned me on to the TV show **_**Heroes**_** and I've been holed up in my room for about a week watching every single episode. And then I left for a church camp…but I'm back now. **

**--**

**::One Month Later::**

The office of the _Daily Prophet_ is bustling as usual. Memos are flying through the air so erratically that I have to duck to avoid them, which isn't making the job of hiding from Malcolm any easier. According to Grace Parker, a co-worker of mine, he has been looking for me all afternoon. And that can never be a good thing.

I've made it nearly three hours without him finding me, but now it's time for me to clock out. All I have to do is make it out the door and I'm free for the weekend…

"Katie Bell!"

Shit! I pause for only a second in panic before continuing on my way much faster than before. I'll just pretend I didn't hear him.

"Katie Bell!" Malcolm shouts louder. Okay, only a deaf person wouldn't have heard that. I continue weaving through my co-workers nonetheless, several giving me pitying glances as I try to sneak out of Malcolm's sight. "I know you hear me," he admonishes. "And if you don't stop now, you're fired!"

"Like you would fire me!" I reply, still making my way towards the door.

"I went without you for seven months—I can do it again!" Finally, more out of guilt than anything, I come to a halt. Although Malcolm understands the necessity of me quitting when I did, he still hasn't completely forgiven me.

"What is it, Malcolm? You promised me the weekend off! I have a baby shower to plan," I argue.

"Yes, I know. You haven't let me forget that. But I have an assignment for you. It doesn't have to be done this weekend, but I want the article on my desk a week from today."

I groan inwardly, but I know that that is more leniency than Malcolm normally allows. "What's the assignment?" I sigh.

Malcolm smiles brightly and hands me a slip of paper as if it's the best Christmas present anyone could hope for. "It's just a follow-up interview on the story you did a few months ago. He requested you specifically."

"Of course he did," I groan before I can stop myself. I am going to kill Oliver Wood.

"Well, listen," Malcolm continues, rifling through the papers in his hand. "Rumor has it that Wood was recently engaged. Get the scoop on that, will you? He's not prone to interviews, but I think if you turn on the charm you just might be able to get it out of him. The number one candidate for his future wife is Amanda Withers, Puddlemere's Seeker—"

"Amanda Withers got married last month," I point out.

"What? When did that happen?" Malcolm asks frantically, flipping through his papers so fiercely that a few fall to the ground.

"Last month," I repeat slowly.

"We should have covered that. How did I miss it?"

"We did cover it, Malcolm."

"Who wrote the article?" he asks.

"I did," I clarify.

"Oh…well, good job." I shake my head slightly in frustration.

"Is that it, then? Can I go?"

"Oh no, a few more things. Figure out who he's engaged to…or even if they're still engaged—"

"You told me that already."

"—and there has also been some talk that he's transferring to the Falmouth Falcons." I can't help the laugh that escapes me. "What?"

"Nothing, I'm sorry," I say quickly. "I just…highly doubt that is all."

"Well, I think that's all Ms. Bell. You're free to go." I smirk to myself as I walk out the door. In some ways it must suck to be an internationally renowned Quidditch player. You always get these outrageous rumors cropping up for no good reason.

I step out of the _Daily Prophet _and immediately veer towards Diagon Alley. I've put Leanne's baby shower off far too late, but this was the only weekend that was good for her and I have to get some decorations. I wouldn't even be doing this except for the fact that Leanne refuses to throw herself one and I think she would enjoy it.

How come I always end up planning things for her? Is that really the price of being her best friend? I think having friends is way too complicated.

Leanne's still being stubborn, however, and refuses to mess up her own house because she has no idea when the baby is going to pop out; so, we're having it at the flat I'm sharing with Angelina and Alicia.

I stop in several shops and pick up some things I need before heading over to Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes. I still feel a slight pang of sorrow when I walk in and notice Fred's no where to be seen, but it's getting duller each and every time. I've taken to stopping by quite a bit after work and just visiting.

A bell tinkles as I walk in the door, but no one takes much notice of me. Customers are packed in tight and I doubt anyone could hear the bell even if they'd been listening for it. I walk to the front of the room and find Angelina sitting behind the register, reading a copy of _Witch Weekly_.

"What are you doing off practice this early?" I ask, making my way over and leaning on the counter.

"Stephanie Jordan sprained something or another," Angelina explains. "Coach healed her, of course, but gave us the rest of the day off. I think I'm going to conveniently fall of my broom next practice so it can be called off early too. How was work?"

"Fine. I'm supposed to interview Oliver again."

"Well, you're over there enough as it is. It's about time you had an _excuse_."

"Why do I need an excuse?" I ask, trying to hide a smile.

"It's just not right, Katie—spending so much time alone with a guy who's not your betrothed. When are you two going to start dating again? This whole thing's getting ridiculous."

"We will when we're ready," I say for what feels like the millionth time. Angelina just doesn't understand that this break was something I needed.

And it doesn't help that over the past month, Oliver and I have become so much closer than we've ever been. He's definitely helped me fill the void that Fred left behind. "Hey, is George here?"

"Yeah," Angelina replies. "He's over there telling Ginny she's too young to have one of his Patented Daydream Charms."

"Oh, come on. The girl turns seventeen in two months."

"And she only want one because he says she can't have one," Angelina laughs.

"I'm so about to buy her one," I say.

"George is going to kill you," Angelina smirks. "But if you're really going to get one for her, get it out of the back room. I don't want to have to restock the front unless I have to." I wave my hand absently to show that I've heard her and head into the back room. I'm about the push the curtains back to enter, when I hear yelling from the other side.

"Ron, you're being ridiculous!" Hermione Granger yells shrilly.

"No, I'm not—I'm being me! If you don't like _me_, then maybe you should just leave me alone."

"Maybe I should," she retorts. I roll my eyes, but push the curtain aside and enter the room. These two have been going at it for days, and all over the same topic.

"Hey, Katie," Ron greets when I enter. I smile over at him, always getting a kick out of seeing him in the magenta robe that all employees wear. Although it looks horrible on George too, it seems more comic on Ron.

"Katie, tell him he needs to go back to school," Hermione says without a greeting. I freeze. Oh please don't drag me into this!

"Katie," Ron counters, "tell her it's my life and I'll do with it what I damn well please!"

"You'll never be a proper wizard if you don't go back," Hermione argues, seeming to forget Katie's presence.

"I think I've proved myself capable of being a _proper_ wizard. Hermione, they've asked all three of us to train to become Aurors—without taking the N.E.W.T.s! Why won't you take advantage of that?"

"Because I have no desire to be an Auror as you very well know! I want to go back to school!"

"Well no one's stopping you! Ginny has to go back for her seventh year—it's not like you're going to be alone."

"But _you're_ not going to be there!" she yells. I immediately stop rummaging through boxes as the room gets deathly quiet.

"Is that what this is about?" Ron asks quietly after a few seconds. I'm still too scared to make a move in case they notice me and decide that they don't want to have this conversation after all.

"I don't know," Hermione admits. "Maybe."

I turn slightly and see Ron take both of her hands in his. "I'm going to miss you, Hermione. You have to know that. But I couldn't go back to Hogwarts right now even if I wanted to. George needs me here." She nods her understanding and I, after finally locating the product I'm looking for, head silently out the door.

The shop is still as chaotic as ever when I step out of the store room. I meander through the people before making my way back to the cash register, now being manned by Verity, and purchasing the Patented Daydream Charm. I'd actually never thought of how embarrassing it would be to buy one of those until I saw the look that Verity gave me.

After putting my purchase securely in a bag, I walk over to where Ginny and George are still arguing. It must be something about the red hair—all of the Weasley's seem to have a fiery temper today.

"You treat me like I'm a little girl!"

"You are a little girl! And even if you weren't my little sister, you're still too young to buy that."

"So," I say to George when I get close enough, "what you're saying is that if she somehow got her hands on one, you wouldn't mind?"

"Yeah, sure," George shrugs. "But she's too young, so that's a moot point."

"No, I was just clarifying," I say. "Here you go, Ginny." I hand her the bag.

"What's this?" she asks, opening the bag. Suddenly, her face lights up with a grin. "I love you, Katie," she cries, wrapping her arms around her neck. She then sticks her tongue out at George and takes off out of the store.

"You did not just do what I think you did," George mutters, giving me a death glare.

"Of course not," I shrug. He seems to think that it's better not to know for sure and doesn't question me on it. Instead, he takes off to help some of his customers. Smirking to myself, I say goodbye to Angelina before stepping back onto the streets of Diagon Alley. I've barely been walking a minute, however, before I hear my name shouted above the noise.

"Katie!" I turn to find Mallory and Ben sitting outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Oliver alongside them. Mallory, the one who called my name, is waving at me wildly. I walk over to them.

"Hello all," I greet, sitting in the free seat next to Oliver and setting my bags onto the ground beside me.

"What's in the bags?" Mallory asks, leaning over to get a peek.

"Just decorations for Leanne's baby shower," I shrug.

"Tomorrow, right?" she clarifies. I nod. "I'll be there. You know, I've never been to a baby shower before. Missed my sister's—actually I just didn't go. I really hate her friends…" I roll my eyes at her. She knows very well that I hate Leanne's friends too.

"Oh, Oliver!" I say, suddenly remembering my conversation with Malcolm. "I heard you're considering switching to the Falmouth Falcons."

"What?!" Ben cries.

"Yeah, what are you talking about?" Oliver laughs. "I thought it was the Tutshill Tornados."

"Whatever it is," I roll my eyes, "I'm supposed to find out about it. Why the hell did you request me for an interview?"

"Coach told me I needed to do one—it's been a while," Oliver shrugs.

"Hey, Kates," Ben says sweetly, "could you possibly, maybe give me an interview too?"

"Are you kidding me?" I groan. "If I knew having friends on professional Quidditch teams was going to make me work this hard…"

"I'll name my first born child after you!" he offers.

"Uh, hold on…" Mallory warns and I can't help but laugh.

"I'll do the interview, but you're going to have to wait until I can clear my plate a bit."

"Yeah, no problem," he grins. "Last time I did an interview with the _Prophet_, I got this crazy blonde who hit on me all night. I must have downed like five firewhiskeys trying to make her voice less annoying. Needless to say, that didn't turn into the most flattering interview in the world."

"You're also rumored to be engaged to Amanda," I continue, turning back to Oliver. "Is there something I should know?"

"I really wish you hadn't found out like that," he says seriously. I hit him hard on the shoulder. "Ow!" he jokes. I roll my eyes.

"I better be going," I say, standing up from my spot at the table. "But I'll see you later."

"You sure you don't want to stay for some ice cream?" Oliver asks, grabbing my wrist before I can take a step away,

"I can't," I groan.

"Okay," he shrugs. "But come by my flat tonight and we can do that interview." I nod and wave as I Disapparate. I already had plans to see Oliver tonight anyways. I guess now it's just for business instead of pleasure.

--

I walk into Oliver's flat without knocking. He gave me a key after I moved out and I've been using it ever since. I do find it strange, however, that he never trusted me with a key when I actually lived there…

I'm immediately greeted by Bludger, who's as excited as ever to see me. Apparently Oliver and my separation has been hard on him.

"Hey, Kates, I'm in the kitchen," Oliver calls. As I make my way back there, I smell a pungent aroma wafting through the house.

"Oliver, are you _cooking_?" I ask, hurrying into the kitchen where Oliver is, in fact, cooking. "Oh my God! You _are _cooking!" He throws a dish towel at me and I throw it back.

"Just sit down, will you? We can do this interview while the chicken is finishing up."

"Whatever you say," I smirk. After checking to make sure everything on the stovetop is in order, Oliver sits down in the seat opposite me.

"You know, this interview is completely pointless," Oliver says. "I mean, you know me well enough to write my biography."

"Yeah, well, Malcolm wants to know about your engagement," I say.

"That could be problematic."

"Yeah, you're telling me. It would almost be easier if you _were_ engaged to Amanda."

"Well, just print the truth—I'm not engaged anymore. Thanks to you," he smiles over at me sarcastically and I grind my teeth together.

"Shut up!" I cry, although I've gotten used to these jabs over the past few weeks. "This is seriously a problem—Malcolm's going to want a name."

"Katie, why not just give it to him?" Oliver laughs. "That seems to make the most sense to me."

"Do you know how egotistical it would sound if I wrote an article about _me_ being engaged to _you_. No one would believe it."

"Except for the people who actually know us," Oliver points out. "And they're really the only ones that matter anyway." I shrug. He's left the decision up to me on what to print and I know him well enough to know that he's not about to change his mind.

"And you're not thinking about switching Quidditch teams?" I ask in a monotone, voicing the question only because it's required of me. How do these rumors get started?

"No, I'm definitely staying with Puddlemere," he clarifies.

"Well good. The falcons could use you, though. They just keep getting worse and worse."

"Which is exactly why I'm staying with Puddlemere," Oliver laughs.

"Well, those are really the only questions I have for you," I shrug, reaching across Oliver to grab a roll off of the table. "I'll just fill in the rest with horribly embarrassing stories that you don't want anyone to know about."

"That's really all you have?" Oliver asks. "You may never get this chance again, you know? To ask me anything you want."

"What am I supposed to ask you?" I question around a mouthful of food.

"How am I supposed to know? You're the reporter."

"Okay, okay…which of your teammates are you closest to?"

"Ben," Oliver answers.

"And is there one you're butting heads with at the moment?"

"Actually, yes. I don't think I've told you this yet. Nolan's dating Jaiden. And I mean actually dating, not just shagging. And don't give me that look—I'm not jealous. It's just rubbed me the wrong way is all."

"Whatever you say," I smirk. I'm honestly not worried about him being jealous, because I'd probably feel the same way if I was in his position. "So, I suppose you're going to be the godfather for Leanne and Cullen's kid."

"Is that a question?" he asks.

"No, just a comment."

"Well in that case, I actually have no clue. According to Cullen, if they have a boy, I'm going to be godfather. If they have a girl, _you_ are going to be godmother."

"What?!" I ask when his words finally take shape in my head.

"Katie, don't act so surprised! You're Leanne's best friend."

"But I can't…do…children. They _hate_ me, Oliver. They really do!"

"It's not going to hate you," he laughs. "And it's not like you'll be in charge of raising it—you'll be the one that gets to spoil it."

"You're referring to a child as 'it'," I point out.

"Well in that case, apparently neither of us is fit to raise a child." A smile spreads across my face.

"I've got another question," I ask, inspiration suddenly coming to me.

"Hit me."

"What was the best day of your life? Ever."

"That's easy," he says. "The day we won the Quidditch Cup my seventh year."

"I should have known," I say, rolling my eyes. He smirks.

"Do you remember what happened that day? What _else_ happened that day?" I think about it for a second. When I realize what he's talking about, I look up at him and smile.

"That's the day we got together…for real." Oliver nods.

"Katie," he asks, leaning closer to me by the second, "when are we going to stop playing this ridiculous game? It's been a month and we're practically dating already. I want you back in my arms for good."

My brain clouds and I don't know how to respond. It is true that I've been stubborn this past month, and I do think that it's time for Oliver and I to get back together. But I can't say any of that because it seems as if my brain has completely shut down. Instead, I just let him continue to lean closer.

He's only inches away when a tapping sounds at his window. We both pull away, him closing his eyes in frustration. I get up from my seat and head over to the window, where I let in the aggravated owl tapping on it. He flies immediately to Oliver, who grabs the letter out of his beak. The owl doesn't stay for a treat. I shut the window after him.

As I turn back to the table, Oliver suddenly stands up and begins turning all of the dishes on the stovetop off.

"Oliver, what's going on?" I ask worriedly.

"It's Leanne," he says, turning to me with a grin on his face. "She's in labor."

"Oh my God!" I cry. "She can't be in labor—her baby shower isn't until tomorrow!"

"I don't think the kid cares about that. We need to get to St. Mungo's."

"Right behind you," I say, grabbing my purse off of the table. "Oh, wait," I say, stopping Oliver from Disapparating. "I need to tell Angelina and Alicia where I'm going."

"What? Why?" he asks with a laugh.

"I just do! Plus, they'd want to know. I'll meet you at St. Mungo's, okay?"

"Yeah," he agrees and then Disapparates. I disappear right after him, reappearing in the living room of the flat I share with Angelina and Alicia.

I don't see anyone, so I head over to Angelina's bedroom. I'm just about to knock when I hear noises coming from inside. It takes me a second to place them. When the hell did Angelina get a boyfriend?

Curiosity gets the best of me and I push the door open. They're snogging wildly when I walk in, but they quickly pull apart. The pair of them look at me with guilt etched onto their faces.

It's a very familiar sight. This time, however, it's very different. Because no matter how much George looks like Fred, he'll never be him.

My thoughts can't align themselves in head. Angelina and…George? What the hell? I never thought George would sink this low, taking his dead brother's ex-girlfriend.

"Leanne's having her baby," I choke out. "I have to go to St. Mungo's. I don't know when I'll be back."

I then turn around and storm out of the room. "Katie, wait!" Angelina calls. I don't slow down. Even though I know I'm in no fit condition to do so, I Disapparate on the spot. Thankfully, I make it to St. Mungo's in one piece. But the stitches that have sewn themselves over my heart suddenly come re-opened.

What the hell?

--

**I don't know how many chapters are left, but it's not that many. So, review please :)**


	37. Fairy Tale Ending

**A/N: So originally this was going to be split into two chapters, but I thought it worked better as one. On the down side, this is actually the last chapter of this story—I'm sorry you weren't given more warning. There will be an epilogue, however, so there is one more update on the horizon.**

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_Fairy Tale Ending_

It's a miracle that I manage to stay on my feet as I crash land into the waiting room of St. Mungo's. Several people give me annoyed glances as I scope the room, but I pay them little attention. Thankfully, this particular waiting room is strictly for the maternity ward so the people are in relatively good spirits.

Unlike me, of course, because I always have to be different.

The only people that I recognize in the room are Leanne's father and brother. I assume her mother is in the back with her and I have absolutely no idea where Oliver is. It's probably better that way, though. Right now would not be a good time for him to ask me how I'm doing.

George and Angelina!? What the hell is wrong with this world?

I quickly shake those thoughts out of my head. This is Leanne's day—thoughts of my dead best friend aren't going to mar this memory for her.

"Oi, Katie!" I turn to find Leanne's younger brother, Aaron, gesturing for me to join him. Although I'm not really in the mood for conversation, I take a seat next to him.

"How are you?" I ask, giving him a quick hug. "You're out of school for the year, right?"

"Yeah, just got out last week," he announces proudly. "Once the Carrows left, it wasn't that bad at all. I even think I did pretty well on my O.W.L.s."

"And what about your sister?" I ask. "Has she had the kid yet?"

Aaron smirks up at me slightly. "Nah. I think it's a pretty long process—that's what Mum keeps saying, anyway."

"You wouldn't happen to have seen Oliver, would you?" I ask, glancing around the room once more just in case I missed him the first time through.

"Cullen dragged him off as soon as he got here," Aaron answers.

"Great," I mutter, trying not to sound as dejected as I feel. Aaron seems to realize that I'm not in the mood for conversation and doesn't press the subject.

"Cullen said to send you back when you got here too, by the way," he says instead. I turn to look at him in shock.

"No, no, no," I argue. "I don't want to go back there." Aaron just shrugs and turns back to his magazine. Why would they want me back there? I am not about to watch Leanne give birth to that baby! What is she playing at? I can't even see someone get a paper cut without getting light-headed.

For the next ten minutes I sit stiffly in my seat, praying that no one comes searching for me. It soon becomes obvious that no one's going to come and I pull a magazine out from under the pile on the coffee table. I flip through it aimlessly, but it does nothing to calm me down. Thoughts of Angelina and George keep running through my mind coupled with worry that I'm going to be forced into the delivery room.

I quickly stand up from my seat and make my way to the stairs. This place is almost as familiar to me as Hogwarts since I spent so many months here during my seventh year. I need some tea.

I push my way through the crowded corridors until I reach the tea room. Several Healers are scattered about, taking their breaks, but they pay me little attention. I pour myself a hot cup of tea and sip on it slowly, allowing every scalding drop to touch my tongue in hopes that it will clear my head. It does nothing, however, except put me in excruciating pain.

I wait at a table by myself for the tea to cool and then down it slowly. I think about pouring myself another cup simply to waste some time, but I decide against it. I might as well go join Leanne's family in the waiting room once more.

When I arrive back in the maternity ward waiting room, however, I'm seriously regretting my decision to skip a second cup of tea. I'd almost rather join Leanne in the delivery room than face who is waiting for me now. Because sitting in the seat that I had vacated just minutes before is Angelina.

My first instinct is to turn around and make my way elsewhere before she can see me, but I'm not quick enough. She catches sight of me almost immediately.

"Katie," she says softly, standing up from her seat.

"I don't want to talk to you," I retort, taking a seat as far away from her as I can. She follows me. Too late I realize that there is an empty seat on my other side. She takes it before I can get up.

"Katie, please. Just listen to what I have to say." I look into her eyes and see no remorse there. She honestly doesn't care that what she was just doing was wrong.

"What are you even doing here?" I ask harshly.

"If you don't want someone to follow you, then don't tell them where you are going," she answers. I roll my eyes.

"You have no right to be here. You don't even know Leanne—you aren't friends with her."

"But I am friends with you and I need to explain myself."

"I don't want to hear an explanation of why you are with your dead fiancé's brother, thank you very much," I say, louder than I meant to. Curious glances are thrown our way, but I ignore them. Angelina, however, is blushing profusely.

"Katie, that's not fair and you know it. Fred and I broke up _before_ he died. I'm doing nothing wrong!"

"This would be wrong even if Fred was still alive!" I argue. "What is George thinking? Does he not realize that he's dishonoring his brother's memory by doing this?"

"He is dishonoring no one!" Angelina yells. "And don't you even act like you know what Fred would want better than George does—because you don't!"

"Well obviously George's judgment has been clouded if he's sleeping with you!"

"Katie Bell!"

"Angelina Johnson!"

"Why does this bother you so much?" she asks, tears springing to her eyes. "I'm happy, Kates. For the first time since he died."

"He didn't deserve this, Ange," I say, barely above a whisper.

"Just let me explain. You know I would never do something that I didn't feel was right."

"I don't want an explanation today," I say. "Maybe later, but not now." Without waiting for her to speak, I once again stand up from my seat and make my way out of the room. Thankfully, she doesn't follow me.

My head is pounding from all of the worries that I've forced into it and I can't find a way to make it stop. I must look like a mental patient as I wander the halls with my hands clamped over my head.

"Katie?" I hear a voice ask. I open my eyes to find Oliver staring at me curiously. "I've been looking all over for you. What's wrong?"

Upon hearing the sound of his voice, my head miraculously clears and I'm left standing in front of him in awe. How is it possible that one person can have such a profound effect on me?

"I love you, Oliver," I say, voicing the first thing that comes to my mind. He looks at me with wide eyes.

"Well, I love you too, Katie, but—" Before he can tell me that now isn't the right time, I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. He lets out a gasp of protest before allowing me to kiss him. His hands settle on my waist and I lose no time in tangling my fingers in his hair. How did I go a month without this?

"Katie," he gasps, pulling away. "Not that I don't love this, but Leanne's in labor."

"I don't care," I argue, pulling him to me once more. He allows me to kiss him for several more seconds before pushing me away.

"We're in the middle of a hospital, babe. Anyone could walk by at any second." I roll my eyes, but look around for an alternate location nonetheless.

"There's a storage cupboard over there," I motion, already making my way over and pulling Oliver behind me.

"That's not what I meant," he groans.

"Are you complaining?" I ask, opening the door and taking a step inside. I turn around to face him as he stands on the threshold. He's leaning against the door casually and looking at me as if he's never seen me before.

"I have a feeling I'm going to regret this," he finally says, smirking at me as he enters the small room and shuts the closet door behind him, leaving us standing not an inch apart.

"Why did we never do this at Hogwarts?" I ask, throwing my arms around his neck. I can barely make out his smile in the dim light. "There were plenty of broom cupboards there."

"We never did this at Hogwarts because I couldn't trust myself around you," he says, leaning down to kiss my forehead lightly.

"But you can now?" I ask.

"No. But now it's not completely illegal for me to shag you."

"Are you suggesting something, Mr. Wood?"

"Am I suggesting we have a quick shag in a St. Mungo's storage closet while our closest friends become parents? Not in particularly." I laugh and am surprised at just how loud it sounds in the tiny cupboard. Oliver chuckles at the sound and then, to my surprise, he leans down and kisses me.

He kisses me gently and it's just what I need—something to get my mind off of everything else going on. Before long, however, the kiss becomes more urgent. Our limbs are tangled together as I lean against the wall of the closet and I can't help but wonder how I could have ever suggested that we take a break. Was I really so upset that I thought it would be a good idea to leave him?

I feel Oliver's calloused hands slip under my shirt and I revel in the warmth of his touch. I slowly begin unbuttoning his shirt, but he stops me and I don't argue. I'm not sure how often this cupboard is used after all…

Several seconds later I get my answer.

The door bangs open and Oliver and I quickly break apart. He doesn't let me go, however, for which I am grateful. We look up at our intruder and I am surprised to see—

"Cullen," Oliver groans. "Awesome timing, mate."

"It's a gift," he smirks. "I send you down here to look for Katie and this is what I find. Why didn't I expect this?"

"How's Leanne?" Oliver asks with a smile, obviously trying to tire Cullen so that he will shut the door once more.

"Un-pregnant," Cullen smirks.

"What?!" I cry, squeezing past Oliver and out of the cupboard. "She had her kid?"

"Sara Marie Burke," Cullen smiles proudly.

"That sounds like a girl's name," I say, my face visibly falling. Oliver said that if they had a girl, I was going to be Godmother.

"Well I would sure hope it's a girl with that name," Oliver laughs. "Congratulations, mate," he says to Cullen.

"Hey, Katie," Cullen smirks. "Leanne wants to ask you something. It rhymes with Kodmother."

"Shut up," I groan. "I can't take care of a kid!"

"Oh trust me," Cullen says. "I'm not about to let you take care of my kid without training."

"And who's going to train _you_?" Oliver asks and the two men begin laughing as they take off down the hall. I follow after them, still slightly overwhelmed.

When we arrive in the delivery room, the first thing I notice is the sheer look of satisfaction on Leanne's face. Cullen is immediately by her side and I can honestly say I've never seen the two happier.

"And this must be little Sara," Oliver coos, making his way over to the baby that Leanne is holding in her arms. "Hey, honey. I'm your Uncle Oliver." I watch him happily, wondering how he can be so good with children when I'm not.

"Katie, don't you want to see her?" Leanne asks. I smile over at my best friend and slowly walk over to her bedside. Oliver moves so that I can get a closer look.

I look down at the sleeping little girl in Leanne's arms and I know instantly that no matter how much I've disliked children in the past, this one is different. She's already stolen my heart.

"Merlin!" I whisper. "She's beautiful." I take a seat on Leanne's bedside and gently take Sara's tiny hands in my own. I find myself at a loss for words.

"Do you want to hold her?" Leanne asks. I'm jolted from my happy place at the sound of her words and immediately hop up from the bed.

"No, no, no, no, no," I say quickly.

"You're not going to drop her," Cullen says, taking his daughter from his wife's arms. "Here." He walks closer to me and although I know he's going to be standing right there, I am still worried that I'm going to do something wrong. This is a real human being and I am not the most graceful person in the universe. I don't recoil as Cullen places Sara in my arms and I'm surprised at just how light she is.

"Hey there," I whisper when I'm comfortable enough holding her. "You are so gorgeous—just like your mum. My name's Katie. I'm the one who's going to be spoiling you rotten." Cullen laughs lightly from next to me.

"I have a question for you, Katie," Leanne asks. I turn to face her with a wide grin on my face. "Wow, you look happy."

"This is amazing, Leanne!" I say. "I want one!" Cullen once again bursts into laughter as Oliver puts his hand on his forehead in embarrassment.

"Well, why don't you just help me with mine for now," Leanne giggles. "Cullen and I would like you to be Sara's godmother."

"Yeah, sure," I say distractedly.

I probably would have stayed there for hours more with Sara, but Oliver made me give her back to Leanne and excused the both of us from the room not minutes later.

"Oliver, I wanted to stay," I whine after he's closed the door behind us.

"Let them have a little time alone with their own kid before you become her favorite, okay?"

"I guess," I mope. "So, what now?"

"I don't know. How 'bout you tell me what spurred on our little snogging session back there."

"Not fair," I say. "You're going to take what I tell you the wrong way."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that the reason I kissed you was because I was freaked out about something I walked in on earlier," I say quickly. "But that's not accurate. I've wanted to get back together with you for weeks—that was just the driving force that pushed me to do it."

"And what makes you think we're back together now?" he smirks. I turn to look at him worriedly. "I'm kidding, Kates. I honestly don't care why you kissed me earlier. I'm just glad that you did." Without looking to make sure no one is watching, I kiss him once more. He looks down at me in surprise. "But that's not to say I'm not curious," he continues.

"Curious?" I feign ignorance.

"What did you walk in on earlier that mad you so mad?"

I shrug. "Angelina and George." Oliver stops walking behind me.

"Angelina Johnson and George Weasley?" he clarifies. "That's not something I saw coming."

"I kind of blew my top at Angelina," I confess. "I just…I know I shouldn't have—I had no right to. But…"

"Fred?" Oliver asks. I look up at him in surprise. This is the first time he's mentioned Fred to me since the day of his funeral. I inhale sharply.

"Yeah, Fred," I reply.

"Ange and Fred broke up, Kates," Oliver says soothingly. "Maybe _this_ was meant to be."

"Well then that doesn't seem fair," I murmur.

"How so?"

"If Angelina and George are meant to be together, then that means Fred died without meeting the one for him. It's just sad."

"Have you ever thought that maybe Fred did meet _the one_? But maybe his one was already taken," Oliver says.

"Are you talking about me?" I ask in surprise.

"He loved you, Katie, there's no way around that. And I think that I'm right in assuming that he _loved_ loving you. So if that's what you're worried about, then his life wasn't a waste."

"But I didn't love him like that," I retort. It's Oliver's turn to be surprised.

"What?"

"You didn't honestly think I did?" I demand. "Oliver, I love _you_. I always have and I always will. Fred was the best friend I've ever had. But he's not you. You're the one for me."

"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that," Oliver says, smiling grandly. He wastes no time in kissing me once more. "What do you say we get out of here? Go back to my place?"

"I'd love to, Oliver, but there's something I have to do first."

"Okay," he consents and I love him even more for not asking any questions.

"But I'll meet you back at your place in a few hours."

"I'll be waiting." He Disapparates and I'm left alone.

I make my way down to the waiting room in order to check and see whether Angelina is still there—I think I'm willing to hear her out now. She's not, however, so I make my way to the ground floor of St. Mungo's where I know there is a gift shop. Once there, I buy two bouquets of flowers; one is to be sent up to Leanne's room, the other is coming with me.

With my flowers in hand, I Disapparate.

There's no one at the Ottery St. Catchpole cemetery when I arrive there. I've been coming here almost weekly (if not more) and never once have I seen another person. It's kind of sad that the dead all lay forgotten.

I make my way over to Fred's grave and take my usual seat next to the tombstone. It would be much more comfortable to lean against it, but Fred never was fond of me sitting on his lap and I don't think that's changed since he's died. His grave is covered with a myriad of items that I've grown accustomed to seeing. There's always some products from Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes lying there along with at least one bottle of firewhiskey. There's also letters from people thanking him for his sacrifice in the final battle. I place the flowers on top of his gravestone. The bouquet I left last week is already gone—I don't know who clears these gravestones up but they're pretty good at their job.

"I brought you another bouquet of flowers," I say needlessly. "I know you hate them, but I think it brightens up the place a bit." I sit there in silence for several minutes. It's getting easier to come here now. I think I'm getting used to the idea that he's really gone. And that scares me. "Oliver and I got back together today," I continue. "I know, shocker, right? And Leanne had her baby. It's a girl; her name is Sara. She's the most gorgeous thing that I have ever seen in my life."

We sit in silence for several seconds. "I miss you, Fred. I miss you so much."

"I'm sure he misses you, too." I turn around in shock to see George Weasley standing on the other side of Fred's grave.

"Holy shit, George. You scared me to death!"

"You don't look dead to me," he jokes, taking a seat next to me and casually reaching over and grabbing the firewhiskey off of Fred's grave. He pops the top off with his teeth and offers me a swig.

"Fred's going to come back and haunt you for drinking that," I say, pushing the alcohol away from me.

"Nah, it's the cheap kind. I'm pretty sure Lee's the one dropping this off. Anyway, we shared everything while we were living—I don't see why that has to change now that I have the upper hand."

"Well for one, grave robbing is illegal."

"I'm pretty sure it's only classified as grave robbing when you dig up the grave. And I have no intention of digging up his hairy arse tonight. Sure you don't want a swig?"

"Maybe just one," I consent.

"That's my girl," George laughs.

"What are you doing here anyway?" I ask.

"Just visiting my dear ole brother. I had some news for him, but it looks like you've gotten there first."

"What are you talking about?"

"I assume you told him about me and Ange?"

"He's already dead—I didn't feel the need to kill him all over again." George starts laughing from next to me.

"Well good," he chuckles. "I get to tell him, then."

"What are you going on about?"

"Fred, mate," George says much too loudly in order to cover up my voice. "You'll never guess who has finally decided to date me! Ange! Yes, you heard that right, dear brother. And you always said she would never go for me after she'd had you! How wrong you were."

I shake my head at my own stupidity as George continues to exchange quips with the gravestone. "He knew before he died," I interrupt. George looks over at me with a smirk before his face grows serious.

"Of course he did, Katie. Do you really think that I could be with Angelina in good conscience if we hadn't thoroughly discussed this." I cover my face with my hands to hide my embarrassment.

"I owe Angelina an apology," I moan.

"Nah, she understands. We're going to be getting a lot of that now that we're officially together. But I just want to make sure that you understand that Fred was all for this relationship, Kates. I love Angelina and he knew that."

"I think that you and Fred were way too close if you could talk about things like that," I retort.

"I told you—we share everything."

"Including girls?" I laugh. George laughs with me and nudges me gently with his elbow. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

"I don't blame you. And I know you hate these conversations as much as I do, but I have to ask: are you okay with all of this now?" I know without looking at him that he's no longer talking about him and Angelina. He's asking me how I am doing without Fred in the only way that he knows how.

"I just miss him," I say and I feel tears coming to my eyes. George throws his arm around my shoulder and I lean into him.

"I miss him too," he admits.

"The letter that we found," I shrug. "Did he die in love with me?"

"Honestly, Katie, I don't know. There were several months between that letter and when he died. We talked about it a little bit, but it was sort of a taboo subject with him so I never pressed it."

"More taboo than you dating his ex-girlfriend of like 4 years?" George starts laughing.

"Yes, more taboo than that. He referred to being in love with you as 'incest' if I remember correctly."

"Well then he really did have a mixed up view of family, didn't he?" I ask, patting the gravestone lightly. "I just kind of wish I had known."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I had known, maybe we could have tried…something. I don't know."

"He knew that you were happy with Oliver. He loved you with Oliver—he really did. He just wanted you to be happy."

"I am happy. Oliver and I are back together, by the way."

"Yes, I know. I just ran by his flat looking for you. He told me you'd be here." I roll my eyes at George.

"I didn't tell him I was coming here," I pout.

"Yes, well, that boy knows you better than you know yourself."

"George?" I ask, standing up from the ground.

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"No problem. I'm just doing what Fred would do."

"I know," I laugh. "And thank you."

He waves me goodbye and I Disapparate to Oliver's flat. Before I can even insert my key into the door, Oliver opens it for me. I kiss him on the doorstep. I kiss him in the entrance hall. I kiss him on the sofa.

"Oliver," I laugh, pulling away.

"What?" he asks, smirking at me.

"Is it okay if I move back in?"

"I would be upset if you didn't. But, Katie? You really should put that engagement ring back on. My grandmother is still expecting a winter wedding."

"You know what?" I ask. "I _have_ always thought that December was a beautiful month."

He smiles down at me once more before pressing his lips down on mine. And I can't help but think that through everything, Oliver's been there. A war has been raging around us and still he has stood tall. It's weird how just a few years ago the only thing standing between us was Quidditch.

Now look at us!

We stood united to help fight You-Know-Who. And Oliver was there with me as I grieved the death of my best friend. Times are changing, but the two of us have stayed the same. My feelings for him have never wavered, even if there have been a few bumpy stops along the road.

I don't know what the future holds—I don't think there's anyone who can know that for sure. But what I do know is that Oliver is going to be there with me every step of the way.

And that's exactly how I want it to be.

--

**I hope that lived up to everyone's expectations. But it's not quite the end and I need a bit of help on the epilogue. I've toyed around with a few ideas and I just don't know which one I like more, so I'm going to put it to a vote. I'm going to make a poll on my profile. So, if everyone could please check that out, it will contain several options as to what the epilogue will contain.**

**I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is not the end, however, so I'll say my final goodbyes next time.**

**Review, please :)**

**And yes I named a character after myself, but she doesn't spell it the same :D**

**SarahBeth.**


	38. Epilogue, Part I

**I know, this is wayyy late. But this is the last time I'll ever be late updating on this story again. Because we have reached the end, people. We're through. **

**I've broken this epilogue into two chapters, but I'm releasing them simultaneously.**

**Before I start, I just want to thank everyone who has stuck with me from the beginning, everyone who's ever reviewed, and/or favorited or alerted this story. I appreciate all of the feedback and writing this story has been so much fun for me. I'm just glad I could share it with everyone out there. Thanks again, because it really means a lot that people are interested in what I'm writing.**

**These final two chapters are dedicated to AnotherHPF (for finally pressuring me to post) and also to SunnyDropped. **

**I now present to you the last two installments of **_**Love and War**_**.**

--

I stare out the window of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, simply enjoying the view. It's still amazing to me how less than a year ago, people wouldn't even walk these streets in fear of an attack. Now, it couldn't be more different. People are everywhere! Hogwarts just got out a few days ago for Christmas break and students are bouncing from shop to shop, chattering joyfully about what they're going to do with the rest of their vacation. As the clouds open up and snow begins to fall to the ground, I'm left in awe.

It's only been seven months since You-Know-Who was killed. Seven months since I've worried about anything more than meeting a deadline for _The Daily Prophet_. Seven months since I lost my best friend.

And in less than a week I am going to be walking down the aisle to become Mrs. Oliver Wood. Me! The girl who swore guys had cooties until I turned twelve. The girl who always made fun of those people who got married straight out of school. And not only am I breaking all of my own rules about marriage, but I really don't care. Because I really am in love.

You know, I never even knew it was possibly to feel this abundantly happy about anything. I really didn't. I've never been as happy as I am with Oliver. But this whole wedding thing…_that_ I could do without.

Have you ever planned a wedding? It's not fun, let me tell you. If for no other reason than it took me two months to find a wedding dress. Two fucking months of Leanne, Angelina, and Alicia all breathing down my neck about how I was going to have to pick one soon or I was going to be walking down the aisle in a garbage bag. And I still haven't completely ruled that option out…

Oliver and I should have just put this off for a few more months, but he is still too scared to face his grandmother. We told her it was in December and she was willing to accept nothing less than a December wedding. Just my luck.

I don't mind though. I like this weather much better than summer. The world just seems so much more alive in the winter—even if technically everything's dead. I just like it.

"Hey, Kates," George says, coming over to me after he kicks the last customer out for the day. "I'm off to Ollie's bachelor party. Can you lock up?"

"Already on it," I say, pulling myself from the window and grabbing the proffered keys from George's hand.

"Thanks. Wait…aren't you supposed to already be at your own party? I can get Ron to close up."

"Ron left twenty minutes ago," I laugh. "Hermione stopped by and he left with her."

"Okay, but you never answered my question. Aren't you supposed to be at your own bachelorette party?"

I look down at my watch and up again at George. "Oh yeah, I guess I am."

"Give me the keys," he sighs and before I can pull them away, he snatches them from me. "Parties may not be your thing, but I'm not letting you miss this. Go meet Mallory!"

I groan, but make my way towards the door nevertheless. "Tell Oliver I'm going to kill him for making me do this."

"No problem."

I wrap my scarf around my neck more tightly and step into the frigid air before Disapparating to Hogsmeade. Oliver gets to use the Leaky Cauldron, I get the Three Broomsticks. But first, I've got to stop by Leanne's.

I Apparate right to her front door but before I can knock, the door opens.

"Oh hello, Katie," Cullen says happily, giving me a quick hug.

"Hey, Cullen," I respond. "Leanne is here, right?"

"Yeah, go on in. I'm off to your fiancé's bachelor party. Have any idea what we're doing?"

"Does the agenda change from bachelor party to bachelor party? Booze and strippers?" I smirk.

"Yeah, not really. So, I'll see you at the rehearsal tomorrow?"

"No, I think I'm going to skip that," I joke.

"Funny. Later, Katie."

"Bye." I enter the house and the first thing that I hear is a baby screaming. A broad smile spreads across my face and I drop my bag onto the floor. Sara has grown to be my favorite person in the entire world. She's been like a breath of fresh air during all of this wedding planning. I make my way into the nursery.

Leanne is bouncing from foot to foot, frantically trying to get her daughter to stop crying. Her back is to me and Sara is on her shoulder. Sara looks at me and her tears stall. I wave at her and she starts laughing.

"Thank God," Leanne mutters and turns around. She jumps slightly when she sees me, but quickly recovers. "Don't sneak up on me like that!"

"Sorry," I say, making my way over to Sara who is holding her arms out for me to hold her. "Hey, honey," I say, taking her from Leanne. "How are you? You good? Are you doing good?"

"I wish you wouldn't talk to her like that," Leanne says, taking a seat in a nearby rocking chair.

"Like what?"

"That baby talk. I read that it's not good for her speech development."

"But she likes my baby talk. Don't you, Sara?" As if to answer my question, Sara brings her hands together and claps.

"I give up," Leanne groans.

"If it really bothers you, I'll stop," I say.

"No, it's fine," she groans. "Why are you here anyway? Isn't your party tonight?"

"Yeah. It's over at the Three Broomsticks, but I wanted to see Sara first. Are you sure you can't come?"

"I couldn't find a babysitter for three days in a row, so I'm just going to have to sit this one out. Unless you'd prefer that I skip either the rehearsal or the wedding…"

"Ha ha. Yeah, not a good idea, thank you very much." Leanne laughs with me and then grabs Sara from my arms.

"Katie, get to the Three Broomsticks and forget about me."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. Now get down there before Mallory kills me."

"Okay. But I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye, Katie."

I make my way back out of the house and head towards the Three Broomsticks. Leanne is my Maid of Honor, but since she wasn't going to be able to make it to the bachelorette party, she gave that task to Mallory. Angelina and Alicia are my other bridesmaids. And all four of them haven't left me alone for months. In fact, I have barely seen Oliver at all over the past week.

Angelina insisted that I stay at her flat before the wedding. I had lunch with him yesterday, but other than that I've barely seen him at all.

I open the door to the bar and am immediately overtaken by a gaggle of my friends. And although I love my friends, I really hate parties. And I'm actually not that fond of drinking, either.

Within seconds I have a firewhiskey pressed into my hand and I'm being ushered to a large private room near the back.

"Katie, my dear!" Mallory calls across the room and I make my way over to her.

"Wow, you really outdid yourself," I say, looking around the room at the myriad of people present.

"I tried," she shrugs. "But this is only the first stop, just so you know."

"Where else are we going?" I ask, immediately alarmed.

"You'll find out later," she coos.

"Where else are we going?" I repeat.

"Well, you can't have a bachelorette party without strippers," Angelina says, coming up behind me.

"Ugh, yes you can!" I say as Angelina begins walking off with a smirk on her face. "Yes you can! Angelina, get back here!" I hear laughter behind me and turn to find Alicia standing with Mallory, a smirk also present on her face. "Alicia, you were in on this too?"

"Sorry, Kates, but you're the first one in our old group to get married—we had to go all out!"

"No, no, no you didn't!"

"Stop complaining and start drinking," Angelina says, coming back from across the room. "Go on; take a sip." In order to shut her up, I take a large gulp of my firewhiskey. I think I'm going to need it.

"Happy?" I ask. She just smiles and makes her way over to where several of my co-workers are dancing.

"Just relax, Katie," Mallory says, also heading over to dance. I roll my eyes and Alicia pats me on the back as she too passes me.

I wish I had friends who were a bit more understanding…

I spend the next few hours bouncing from group to group, talking to all of the various people that Mallory invited to this get-together. After a while, however, I just can't take it anymore and I take a seat at an empty table. I'm left to my own devices for a few minutes, but it isn't long before Mallory spots me and makes her way over.

"Katie, what's wrong? If you really don't want the strippers, I'll call and cancel."

I shake my head. "I'm not upset about that," I argue.

"So we can keep the strippers?" she asks, nudging me in the side with a laugh. I roll my eyes, but can't contain my smile.

"Oliver's going to kill me when he finds out about this."

"It's not like he's not doing the same thing tonight," Mallory argues. "Not if I know Ben—which, I think I do."

"What's it like being married?" I ask suddenly. Mallory looks rather taken aback by the question, but thinks it through before answering.

"I loved Ben before I married him and I love him even more now. And I don't think that's going to change any time soon. You hear people talking about how they fall out of love once they get married, but I don't see it. As long as you wait for the right person. And I have no doubt that Oliver is your right person. Don't worry about it. Plus, the sex is so much better now."

"Oh yeah, _that's_ what I'm worried about," I say sarcastically.

"That's right," Mallory smirks. "You're not getting any, are you?"

"Shut up! That is by no choice of mine and you know it."

"I still don't understand what's going through Oliver's head. You two have dated for about three years—maybe not consecutively, but…"

"Yeah, I know. I thought at first that he just wanted to wait since we were already engaged, but I found out last week that he's actually religious."

"Religious?"

"Yeah, he's Catholic or something. I had to go to some pre-marital counseling with his preacher or bishop or pope or whatever those people are called. It was incredibly awkward."

"I can imagine. So are you sure you're all right?"

"Mal, I'm fine. I swear."

"Then why are you moping around over here?"

"Because you ordered me a stripper," I pout. Mallory smiles, but I can tell she sees right through me.

"Tell me what's really wrong."

"I just miss Oliver," I say. "I feel like I haven't seen him in ages."

"You're seriously sitting at your bachelorette party whining because you want to see your fiancé?"

"Is that bad?" I laugh.

"Yes. We need to get you out of here right now!"

"Mallory!"

"No, we're leaving. It's time for stop number two."

--

Stop number two turns out to be Mallory's place. I assume she told Ben to stay away because if she plans on having strippers here and Ben comes home early, we could have a problem.

I try to call Oliver several times as we make our way across town, but he doesn't answer his phone. It was actually pretty pointless of me to get him a mobile. He still doesn't know how to use it.

Most of the girls that followed us here are pissed beyond belief and I'm beginning to find this whole ordeal rather amusing.

"Angelina, this is ridiculous," I laugh, grabbing her arm as I watch Grace and a few other co-workers break into song while dancing on Mallory's kitchen table. If she hadn't consumed as much alcohol as she had, she'd probably be hysterical right now about people ruining her furniture.

"This is fun," she argues. "My bachelorette party better be this good!"

"You set a date yet?"

"Um…still thinking. Maybe sometime in March?" I just roll my eyes as she takes another swig of her firewhiskey. "C'mon, Katie. Lighten up!"

I try to lighten up, I really do. I'm just uncomfortable in situations like this.

It's not too long afterwards that the doorbell rings. I know immediately that my worst nightmare has just come knocking. Call me a prude, but I'm honestly sickened by the idea of seeing some guy I don't know naked.

Sure enough, when Mallory opens the door a guy stands on the other side in an ostentatiously tight costume. I groan to myself as Mallory points me out. The stripper approaches me, dancing along with the music, and quickly sheds his shirt.

And that's when I start running.

"Sorry, Mallory," I cry as I make my way out of the back door. She just laughs and waves as I escape. I doubt she expected me to stay in the first place.

--

I think about going straight to Angelina's so I can get some sleep, but I just feel too lonely at the moment. I know there's next to no chance that Oliver's through with his party, but there's no harm in making sure. I Apparate to the flat that we share and walk to the door.

I don't see any lights on, but I ring the bell nevertheless.

No response.

I ring it again.

Still nothing.

I groan and take a seat on the front step. I just really want to see Oliver right now. This is completely unfair!

I'm taken aback as suddenly the door behind me opens. I turn in surprise to find a groggy Oliver standing there.

"What happened to your key?" he asks with a smirk as he struggles to open his eyes.

"Have you been asleep?" I ask, standing up from the steps. He shrugs.

"What are you doing back so soon, Kates? I told Mallory to give you a good time."

"Well you shouldn't have done that—she ordered me a stripper!" Oliver starts laughing.

"And how did you like that?"

"I ran out of the house and came straight here. Why are _you_ home so early?"

"It's a long story," he chuckles, ushering me into the living room. We take a seat on the sofa.

"I have time," I say, shrugging out of my coat.

"Well, to make a long story short, Nolan got piss drunk and started hitting on some birds who really didn't want his attention. Now, rejection isn't something Nolan's used to…spells were fired. At him."

"Is he okay?" I ask, wanting desperately to laugh.

"He's fine," Oliver sighs, "but I volunteered to take him home. Ben almost didn't let me go."

"Well he did spend time planning this bachelor party for you…"

"And his wife spent time planning yours," he counters.

"Touché. I'm assuming you at least stayed for the strippers, though," I say. I look over at Oliver questioningly.

"You don't give me enough credit," he smirks.

"Oh really? So you left before they got there?"

"Now, Katie that would just be rude. Ben paid good money for them, after all." I reach across the sofa and slap him on the arm. "They were there," Oliver clarifies, "but I was more worried about Nolan not bleeding on the floor. I wasn't paying much attention. It's not really my thing."

"Girls aren't your thing?" I laugh. "It's a wonder your teammates don't think you're gay."

"Yes well that could have something to do with the fact that I'm getting married in two days." I look at the clock above the television. It's after midnight.

"It's just over a day now," I correct. "Look." Oliver looks up at the clock and then looks down at me.

"You're not getting cold feet are you?"

"Nope, still warm," I say, snuggling closer to him and resting my head on his shoulder. "What about you?"

"I've never wanted anything more than I want to be married to you." I look up at him and smile, taking in his dark brown eyes.

"I love you, Oliver."

"I love you too, Katie." His lips descend on mine and it feels so nice after days away from him. It feels right.

I don't know why people always get panicky before their wedding day. There is no doubt in my mind that Oliver's the right person for me. I know for a fact that I could never love someone as much as I love Oliver. Because it must be impossible for a heart to feel more than I'm feeling now. I feel full. I feel complete.

"Can I stay here tonight?" I ask when we separate.

"You honestly think that I'm going to let you leave?" Oliver asks. "I've wanted to see you all night." Neither of us wants to move, so Oliver lies down on the couch and pulls me to him. We fall asleep in each others arms.

--

A shrill ringing wakes me up several hours later. I grumble and roll over—straight onto the floor.

"Ow," I breathe. I hear Oliver on the couch above me laughing as he steps over me to answer the phone. "Who the hell is using muggle technology this early in the morning?"

"It's probably your dad," Oliver shrugs.

"He thinks I'm at Angelina's," I counter as Oliver picks up the receiver.

"Hello?...Yeah, she's here…Right now? The rehearsal's at noon…Whatever. I'll tell her…Bye."

"Who was that?" I ask.

"George."

"George knows how to use a phone?"

"Oh, sorry. It was Lee calling for George. George wants you to meet him at the shop."

"Right now? The rehearsal's at noon. That's in like three hours."

"Yeah, that's what I said. But I'm not about to argue with a Weasley twin."

I sigh, but pick myself up off of the floor and enter the bedroom I share with Oliver in order to get dressed. Miraculously, the dress I'm supposed to wear to the rehearsal is lying on Oliver's bed. I suppose that's Angelina's doing. I quickly shower and get ready before saying goodbye to Oliver and Apparating to George's shop.

"Morning, Kates," a voice calls as soon as I walk in. I turn to find Lee stocking shelves.

"What are you doing here?" I ask. I haven't seen him working in the shop in a while. He's been busy doing his own things these past few months. He's actually been working pretty closely with the Ministry in order to tie up some loose ends that You-Know-Who left behind.

"George needed someone to cover for him today since he's taking you—"

"You about to spoil the surprise, Lee?" George asks, appearing out of nowhere.

"Sorry, mate. I'm not too good with secrets."

"Obviously. Listen, if you need help with something, Ron's in the back. Hermione's back there too, though, and she just got off of break from Hogwarts so they're fighting like crazy about something or another. They'll be snogging in about ten minutes though so you might want to time your questions just right."

"I'll keep that in mind," Lee laughs.

"You ready to go?" George asks me.

"That depends," I say. "Where are we going?"

"You look nice," he says, changing the subject. "Let's go." I follow him out of the shop and into the icy streets of Diagon Alley. I pull my coat tighter around me. The two of us just stand there, looking at the passersby for several seconds.

"We're going to visit him, aren't we?" I say.

"Yeah," he answers, digging his hands deeper into his pockets. "If you want to, I mean. It's just…he always talked about you getting married one day. How special it would be. He was more excited about this than Ginny getting married. And since he can't be here, I think we should go to him." I just nod and grab his hand. George Apparates us both to Fred.

The two of us have taken a multitude of trips out to this cemetery in the past few months. Together, we've pushed through this. And I've gotten to the point where I'm able to hear Fred's name and not think about how he's dead. I remember him for what he was when he was alive.

It still hurts, especially when I start thinking about how much he's missing. He's missing my wedding, for example. And George's too.

We make our way over to his grave and take a seat on either side.

"Hey, Fred. It's us," George greets, pulling a bag of crisps out of his pocket.

"You seriously brought food?" I laugh.

"Eh, he doesn't care," George shrugs. "Guess what, Freddie? Kates is getting married tomorrow."

"And George is engaged," I counter.

"I was going to tell him that in my own time!" George says, laughing slightly.

"Hm, sure you were," I say doubtfully.

"You know, this would be much more fun if he would talk back."

"And ten times creepier," I say. George smiles.

We sit there for the next hour, just talking. We try to include Fred into the conversation as often as we can. I love these visits—I really do. It's just good that Fred knows we haven't forgotten him.

"You're going to be late for your rehearsal," George finally says, glancing down at his watch.

"I know," I agree, "But they can't really start it without me."

"Very true. Still, you should probably go."

Even though I don't want to admit it, he's right. I pick up my bag and Disapparate.

--


	39. Epilogue, Part II

Epilogue,

Part II

--

On the day of my wedding, I stare out the window of the church to find the ground blanketed in a sheet of snow. It's so beautiful. And, as Leanne kindly pointed out, it matches my dress.

I've been sitting in this room for hours, allowing my hair to be washed and dried. Pulled and twisted. Tweaked and coiffed. My face has been steamed and slathered with makeup. All the while, my bridesmaids just sit there talking about life in general. Never mind the fact that my heart is beating out of my chest.

Is this really happening? Are Oliver and I finally getting married? I take a deep breath as the hair and makeup people excuse themselves.

"Time to put your dress on!" Angelina shouts as soon as they are out of the room. Alicia runs to the closet and pulls out what she's grown to jokingly call her firstborn. She loves my dress more than I do! Don't get me wrong, I think it's perfect—but there's only so much affection I can feel for an article of clothing. Alicia's been "babysitting" it for me for months.

It's an A-line dress that has more of a train than I would like, but it is so different than all of the other dresses that I saw; I had to have it. I guess I felt a kinship to it—neither of us seemed to fit in at the bridal store. You see, my dress has spunk. It has color. Literally. I didn't even know they made wedding dresses with color on them.

Anyway, it's a white strapless dress (another feature that I'm not completely comfortably with), with a red band across the top and along the inset and hem. Mallory, Leanne, Alicia, and Angelina are all wearing bridesmaid dresses that I think they're happy with. They picked them out, not me, so they should like them. They're a color called apple, which prior to this whole shopping experience I thought was just a fruit. Turns out it is also a shade of red.

"Okay, Katie," Alicia says, coming back with my dress held above her head so the train doesn't trail too much. "Are you ready to put on your dress?"

"Well, considering the wedding starts in about half an hour, I don't think I have much of a choice." Alicia smiles joyfully and she and Leanne help me step into my dress.

"Oh my God!" They all say at the same time.

"You look amazing!"

"Absolutely beautiful!"

I roll my eyes at them and make way over to the mirror which they hid from me while my makeup and hair were being done. As I stand there looking at myself, I almost don't realize who I'm looking at. I now truly believe that a girl's wedding day is the one day where she gets to look and feel like a princess.

My bridesmaids coo over me for several more minutes while I just stare in shock. I really am beautiful…

A knock sounds at the door and I jump as all of the girls get quiet.

"Yes?" Mallory asks after several seconds pass.

"It's Katie's dad. Can I come in?"

"Of course!" Mallory runs to the door, nearly tripping over her dress and lets him in. I smile at the look of astonishment on his face when he sees me.

"Hi, Daddy," I laugh. He clears his throat and addresses the room.

"They want the bridesmaids to get ready. Katie will be out there in a minute." My friends leave and I'm left alone with my dad. If the truth must be told, I'm a little nervous as to what he's going to say to me. Me and my dad have never really been close—he even ended up moving to America after You-Know-Who died—but it's moments like this that make me realize just how much I love him.

He pretty much raised me single-handedly and I'm eternally grateful to him for making me the person that I am today.

"You look just like your mother," he says, taking a seat in an arm chair on the other side of the room. Not wanting to wrinkle my gown, I stay standing.

"Thank you," I respond.

"You know, she's going to be sorry she missed this." He looks into my eyes and I look into his and I know that that's all that's going to be said about my mum. And somehow, it's enough. I know she's here in spirit and my dad does too; there's no reason for us to say it.

"I know," I agree.

"I wouldn't let you go, Katie, to anyone but Oliver. He's a good man—he treats you right. He loves you."

"I love him too, Daddy. More than anything."

"That's good…that's really good. And you're happy? This is what you want?"

"More than anything," I repeat.

"Then I wish you well, baby. I love you." His comment takes me by surprise and I do a double take. I can't even remember the last time my dad told me that he loves me.

"I love you, too," I say, tearing up. I try to avert my eyes from him, however. If there's one person I'd never let see me cry, it's my dad. He raised me better than to cry over something as sappy as a three-word comment.

"Well then, let's get out there."

My father and I make our way into the lobby of the church. "Is the bride ready?" an usher asks me as I get into line behind my bridesmaids.

"She is," I say. He enters the church and a few seconds later, the bridal march begins playing and the doors to the church swing open. Mallory's the first one out, followed by Alicia, then Angelina, and then Leanne. Finally, it's my turn.

As I step onto the threshold of the immaculate church, the audience stands. I try to withhold my grin, but I just can't help it. Maybe I like the attention after all. My heart is beating as though I've just run a marathon and I don't know how I'm ever going to be able to choke out the vows. I find Oliver's eyes as I walk, arms interlaced, with my father. Oliver's beaming at me and my smile just grows wider.

He looks so gorgeous in his tuxedo. I want to look around at all of the flowers and things that I helped pick out, but I just can't take my eyes off of him. After what feels like hours later, we arrive at the front of the church. My Dad kisses my forehead, before presenting me to the preacher. I pass my bouquet to Leanne and turn to face Oliver.

I'm surprised when I feel the tears welling in my eyes at the sight of him. I'm just so damn happy! I'm even more surprised to find that his eyes are watery also.

"I love you," he mouths to me.

"I love you, too," I mouth back.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the preacher begins. "We are gathered here today to witness the union between these two souls: Katherine Anne Bell and Oliver William Wood."

He goes on to talk about love and the meaning of love for several minutes, but I don't need a definition because the very picture of love is standing right before me.

"If anyone knows of a reason why these two should not be wed, speak now or forever hold your peace."

"Well…" Ben smirks from behind Oliver. Oliver turns and hits him and everyone laughs. "I'm just kidding! These two are perfect for each other."

"Who gives this woman away?"

"I do," my father answers.

"And who gives this man?"

"We do," Oliver's parents say. I look over at them and see that they look just as proud as my own father. Oliver's grandparents sit next to them, and it strikes me for the first time that they are about to be my family also.

"Do we have the rings?"

Oliver turns to look at Ben, his best man, warily.

"I have the rings," Ben assures him, grabbing them out of his pocket. "I'm not cruel enough to give Katie a heart attack by pretending I don't." I smile at him gratefully as Oliver takes the two rings. He hands me one and keeps the other for himself.

"These rings represent your new life together," the preacher says. "Katie, will you present Oliver with your ring?"

I place the ring on Oliver's finger and take a deep breath. Oliver and I memorized our vows…I just hope I can get this right. "I, Katie Bell, take you, Oliver Wood, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, to love and to cherish, for better or for worse, for richer, for poorer, through sickness and in health from this day forward until death do us part."

"And Oliver?" Oliver takes my hand in his and slips the ring on my finger.

"I, Oliver Wood, take you, Katie Bell, to be my lawfully wedded wife, my constant friend, my faithful partner and my love from this day forward. I offer my vow to be with you through sickness and in health, through good times and in bad, and in joy as well as in sorrow. I promise to love you unconditionally, to honor and respect you, to laugh with you and cry with you, to cherish you from this day forward as long as we both shall live."

"You are my husband from this day, until the day I die," I finish.

"And you are my wife from this day until the day I die. But you are my heart forever." I look up in surprise at his deviation from the script.

His eyes are overflowing with love and I know right then that no matter what happens, Oliver is always going to be there. We're going to be together for a very long time. He's going to be the father of my children and the love of my life. He's going to be mine for the rest of eternity.

"Through the power vested in me under the name of God Almighty, I pronounce you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Oliver kisses me right there in front of everyone and I'm officially the happiest person in the world. The future is full of uncertainty and there are things ahead that I know I can't pull through alone.

My life is just beginning. There's a whole world out there of things I've yet to experience. And starting tonight, I'm going to let Oliver take me there.

**The End.**


End file.
